Star Wars: Outcast Blades
by The Incredible Muffin
Summary: Forced to flee the Empire to save his life, a Stormtrooper becomes a mercenary in service to the Rebellion. He will put together a team of rejects and oddballs, and they will have a role to play. They are not the heroes the galaxy focuses on; however, even though they are outcasts, the Empire will come to fear their blades.
1. Just Another Boring Day

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. IT BELONGS TO DISNEY, WHICH I HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH… UNLESS THEY TURN EPISODE 7 INTO A MUSICAL, IN WHICH CASE, I WILL DESTROY THEM WITH MY DEATH STAR.**

**Hello, Muffin-fans! Welcome to my latest story. I just want to make one thing perfectly clear: I love Star Wars, particularly the original trilogy. That being said, this story takes place in parallel to Episodes 4-6, and while you might see some canon characters, you should know now that this story focuses on my OC's. Speaking of which…**

**MY OC'S BELONG TO ME.**

**Now, on with the show… story… whatever. Shut up!**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 1

Just Another Boring Day

**Imperial Star Destroyer **_**Retribution**_

Most Stormtroopers of the Galactic Empire hated boredom. They had joined the Empire to fight its enemies, not sit in a Star Destroyer for days on end. Then again, most of the Empire's grunts were clones, and fighting for the Empire was all they knew; it was the volunteers that were so often frustrated.

That wasn't the case for 19-year-old Ryan Nimbus. He had signed on as a Stormtrooper, but even after a year of service, he had yet to shoot his blaster at anything but targets on the training room. Unlike his fellow Stormtroopers, however, Ryan didn't mind the boredom; in his mind, boredom meant that he wasn't getting shot at, or that he wasn't risking his neck for something he didn't believe in.

In many ways, Ryan was an unusual Stormtrooper; he was reluctant to follow orders, especially if they were stupid ones, questioned his own loyalty, and occasionally talked back to his superiors.

He also didn't look like a Stormtrooper, if he wasn't wearing his armor; though he was human, he was slightly shorter than the average trooper. He was still of average height, but he would be teased often for standing out among the others. Without his helmet, which he hated wearing for its lack of peripheral vision, he had a fairly attractive face, with short, black hair and storm-gray eyes.

Right now, those eyes were narrowed in irritation as he patrolled the corridors of the _Retribution _with his fellow trooper and sort-of friend, Grif. He and Grif had enlisted together, but for different reasons; Grif had wanted to enlist in a fit of (in Ryan's opinion, misguided) patriotism, while Ryan had enlisted because he had promised Grif's mother to keep her son out of trouble.

"I'm telling you," Grif said in his baritone voice, "There's no way that the Rebel scum could have destroyed the Death Star; they're all a bunch of farmers and old men! What could they have done to such a powerful war machine?"

If Ryan was everything that a Stormtrooper wasn't, Grif was the opposite; he was big, uncomplaining, not too bright and constantly regurgitated the Imperial propaganda that they were fed daily, to the point where Ryan wanted to put a blaster bolt into his own skull.

"Okay, maybe you're right," Ryan said, knowing that Grif wasn't intelligent enough to catch his sarcasm, "Maybe the Rebels didn't blow up the Death Star; if so, what happened? A technical malfunction at the exact same time as a Rebel attack? Did some engineer drop a spanner into the reactor?"

"It had to have been a malfunction!" Grif said, "The Death Star was impervious to attacks from the outside!"

_Yeah, right, _Ryan thought; he didn't voice that particular thought, though. Grif might not have been smart, but he wasn't brain-dead; if Ryan said enough anti-Imperial sentiments in a single conversation, Grif would rat him out to the nearest officer, and that would send Ryan to meet a firing-squad. Since Ryan had no intention of dying if he could help it, he kept his mouth shut whenever he saw Grif getting agitated.

Out loud, he said, "Well, if it makes you feel better, man, I heard that we might be deploying soon; maybe you can take your frustration out on the Rebels, if they're there."

Grif brightened up considerably; he was more likely to fight than think, but Ryan had often used that to his advantage back home. No one messed with Grif back on Dantooine. No one had messed with Ryan either, especially after a few years of trying; despite doing his best to avoid fighting, he was actually very good at it.

"So," Grif said, "Where are we headed?"

"Not sure," Ryan admitted, but thankful that he'd distracted Grif, "But I think it was a major Rebel base."

"Was?" Grif echoed, "Why are we going if they're not there?"

"Maybe they came back?" Ryan guessed, "Or maybe they left something important behind."

Satisfied, Grif checked his repeating blaster for the thirtieth time in their patrol; seeing that, Ryan instinctively checked his own E-11 blaster carbine. The habit of constantly maintaining his gear was something that Ryan had been able to teach Grif. Ryan was a bit obsessed with having his equipment in the best condition possible; most of the Stormtroopers in their platoon gave only the minimum effort when it came to maintenance, but Ryan went the extra mile. He wasn't going to get himself killed because of his own sloppiness; not that he had any intention of getting killed at all.

Ryan's musings were cut off when his platoon's lieutenant contacted them via their helmet-comms.

"_TK-8992," _Ryan instinctively straightened at the use of his serial number, _"TK-8993," _Grif did the same at his own number, _"Report to the hangar bay; the platoon is deploying in thirty minutes!"_

Ryan mentally went over the layout of the _Retribution_. "Stang, it'll take us almost that long to get there; let's book, Grif!"

…

It took the two troopers exactly twenty-seven minutes to reach the hangar bay, where they found their unit: Infantry Platoon 4895, or "Poster Platoon", as they were sometimes called, for their habit of doing everything by the book, and their members being particularly zealous in their duties. Ryan was the exception to that, save for his maintenance and training; that was far beyond what everyone else did.

The other 18 members of the platoon turned their helmeted heads at the duo and nodded; Ryan wasn't very popular, but they knew that he could beat the snot out of any of them, their Lieutenant included. Grif received a nod because he fit in so well.

"You were almost late," their commanding officer barked; Lieutenant Raff was even shorter than Ryan, and seemed to try to compensate for that by being as loud as possible. He was also the only other person in the platoon besides Grif to carry a repeating blaster, even if it was almost as long as he was tall.

Ryan did his best to take the man seriously, but sometimes Raff looked like a child in his white armor; he'd heard a rumor from another platoon, one that wasn't as intense, that Raff's armor had been an ordinary set, but he'd taken it to Engineering and had a good four inches cut off so that it would fit him. Since hearing that rumor, Ryan had to stifle a laugh every time he saw the man, and it was one of the few times that he was glad that he wore such a stupid helmet; no one could see him biting his lip to silence his laughter.

"Sorry, sir!" Grif said, saluting, "It won't happen again, sir!"

Raff glared at them, but since they hadn't disobeyed him, he couldn't punish them… this time, anyway.

"Get in line, you two," he growled; once they did so, he addressed the platoon. "We have been chosen to investigate an abandoned Rebel base on the planet of Yavin IV. As some of you may know, that planet was the Rebellion's main base of operations until five months ago, when the Death Star was destroyed before it could exterminate them."

Ryan made a mental note that Raff hadn't said _how _the Death Star was destroyed; he took that as a sign that he'd been right, and that he'd won the argument with Grif.

"However," Raff continued, "we received a report that mercenaries, under the Rebellion's employ, have set up camp there; our task is to destroy these mercenaries and find any information on the Rebellion's current whereabouts. Now get into the shuttle, you maggots! Move!"

Though not physically intimidating, Lieutenant Raff was known to give punishments that far exceeded any infraction, and he would even extend those punishments to members of platoons other than his own; the commanders of those platoons couldn't do anything to stop it, either, since Raff's grandfather was a high-ranking Moff. It would be political or even literal suicide to mess with a Moff's family in any way.

The platoon piled into the _Lambda_-class shuttle, and in a few minutes, left the _Retribution_.

…

**Yavin IV**

"Are you ready for this?" Grif asked from his seat in the shuttle, his face almost split in half by his grin, even if it was hidden by his helmet.

Ryan took half a second to glance at the others in his platoon; he knew that if he didn't say this right, they might view him in suspicion.

"I'll let you take the first shot," he said, pretending to be gracious, when all he wanted to do was get back to his safe, boring patrols.

"Thanks, buddy!" Grif gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

_Well, at least this armor is good for something, _Ryan thought, resisting the urge to rub his arm after Grif's unintentionally painful strike, _it kept my arm from breaking; I wonder if Grif knows how strong he really is?_

"Stow that chatter, troopers!" Raff yelled, "Do you want the whole kriffing planet to hear us!?"

It took all of Ryan's willpower not to point out that they hadn't actually left the shuttle yet, and thus no one could hear them, not to mention that even if they were outside, they hadn't been that loud, and that Raff's yelling would have been what gave them away.

Instead, he asked a simple question, but one that might save his life. "Lieutenant, what kind of opposition are we expecting?"

Raff glared at him for a moment before answering. "Just some Mandalorian thugs; shouldn't take long to wipe out that trash."

Ryan was once again thankful for the helmet; if he hadn't been wearing it, there was a good chance that everyone in the shuttle would have seen him sweating.

He had a good reason to sweat; Mandalorians were some of the best-equipped, best-trained fighters in the galaxy. They weren't just soldiers; a talented Mandalorian was a one-being army! The worst part was that they weren't predictable; they didn't follow a racial tactic, like how the Trandoshans worshipped hunting. Mandalorians were a culture; any species could join, so long as they could prove that they were warriors.

Of all the things Ryan could have faced on his first combat-mission, it had to be Mandalorians; he could only hope that Imperial Intelligence had gotten the facts wrong, and that his platoon was only facing a bunch of imposters.

Ryan was jolted out of his fear when the shuttle landed on the surface of the planet with thud. The hatch opened, and the platoon rushed out, taking cover behind fallen logs and rocks; a perfectly textbook maneuver. Ryan, on the other hand, went the extra mile and covered his exposed flank with a fallen branch.

_Jungle, _he thought, looking at his surroundings, _They sent us to a kriffing jungle in white armor!? We might as well have a big sign over us that says 'shoot us'!_

When it was clear that no one was waiting to ambush them, the Stormtroopers got out of cover, but kept their fingers near their triggers.

"All right," Raff said, this time at a reasonable volume, looking at a holomap, "the temple where the mercs are hiding is half a klick northwest of here; let's move out!"

The jungle was quieter than Ryan expected, but then remembered that only a few days after the Battle of Yavin, the Empire had launched a massive ground assault on the area; anything that had moved had been killed off, and the battle had covered kilometers of jungle. Even months afterward, life was reluctant to return here, if the scorch-marks and craters were anything to go by.

…

The platoon reached the temple in only a few minutes. It wasn't very impressive; it had been old and crumbling even before the Empire had attacked, and now it looked to be on its last legs. If there had been anything useful here, the Rebels had either taken it with them or destroyed it.

Once at the foot of the temple, the platoon stacked up, readying their blasters; most had the standard E-11's, but they also had three thermal detonators. Ryan hoped that nobody would be stupid enough to use them while inside the temple; being buried beneath tons of rubble was not a pleasant way to go.

"Nimbus," Raff whispered, "You and Grif go in first; we'll be right behind you."

That was another thing that Ryan had noticed about his CO; if he liked someone, he called them by their first name. Ryan was the only person in the platoon that Raff called by surname.

Still, if he tried to get out of being point-man, Raff would lose it and start yelling; that would turn a probable chance of getting killed into a near-_definite _chance of getting killed. Suppressing a sigh, Ryan cautiously entered the temple, Grif right next to him. Straining his ears, Ryan could hear the rest of the platoon following after a few seconds.

_At least they aren't too far away if I need help, _he thought.

A few moments later, his eyes caught a flicker of light coming from a crack in a door; he held his left arm at a right angle and closed his fist, signaling the platoon to stop. He slowly pointed at the door, then at Grif and himself. Grif might not have been smart, but he learned things eventually; he knew that that meant he was going to be breaching the door with Ryan.

Ryan, on the other hand, was mentally slapping himself; consciously, he was always trying to get away from danger, yet in the tension, he'd let his training take over, and now he had willingly put himself in a dangerous position.

_I've got a bad feeling about this, _he thought, _still, no way out now._

Ryan crept up to the door, then turned his head to look at Grif, who raised his repeating blaster and nodded; Ryan nodded back, then kicked the door down. As soon as he did, he fell to one knee and aimed his carbine; within the room, five humans looked up in alarm.

At first, no one moved; then one of the humans glanced at the others and nodded. Ryan figured that they thought that he was easy prey; after all, they only saw a lone Stormtrooper. They didn't see Grif, who was still in the shadows, nor the rest of the platoon.

Still, Ryan hoped that they would surrender; while he knew how to shoot at someone, he'd never killed anyone before, and he didn't really want to, either.

Sadly, he didn't get his wish; two of the mercs, a man and a woman, raised blaster pistols and fired. Time seemed to slow down; in the back of Ryan's mind, he knew it was only adrenaline, but the rest of him was reacting on instinct. He rolled to the side and fired three times; one shot went wide, but the other two hit the man in the arm, forcing him to drop his blaster. The woman took cover, just as Grif ran in and filled entire room with blaster bolts; his shots caught the three other mercs, who'd frozen for some reason in the open. The unarmored trio, two men and another woman, fell with brief cries of pain.

Ryan saw the only uninjured merc aim her blaster with a shaky hand.

"Don't do it!" he barked, but she didn't listen; instead, she took aim at Grif, whose blaster had jammed. Remembering his promise to keep Grif alive, he aimed and fired. He was aiming at a target less than three meters away, who wasn't even moving, and Ryan had hundreds of hours of practice aboard the _Retribution_. His shot caught the blaster pistol, sending it flying out of her hand.

"Surrender if you want to live!" Ryan shouted; to his pleasant surprise, she actually raised her hands in surrender…

Before a flurry of blaster-fire caught her in the chest, sending her smoking corpse to the ground. Ryan whirled around to see Lieutenant Raff standing in the doorway, lowering his ridiculously big, smoking weapon.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the whimpering of the last merc, who was still alive. Raff nodded at Ryan and Grif.

"Well done, you two; I guess you're not completely useless," he glanced down at the injured man, "Finish him off."

"What?" Ryan asked, his adrenaline overwhelming his common sense, "Why should we kill him? Why not take him prisoner?"

"BECAUSE I SAID SO, TROOPER!" Raff roared up at Ryan; he would have yelled more, but the sound of blaster-fire cut him off. Both men turned to see Grif standing over the now-dead mercenary.

"Done, sir," Grif said, his voice almost gleeful.

"Nice work, Grif," Raff said, beaming like a proud parent, "Now, all we have to do is…"

He didn't get to finish; Ryan marched up to Grif and decked him, not caring that his fist was striking a plastoid helmet.

"What is wrong with you!?" Ryan demanded, "How the hell could you murder that man!?"

"TROOPER, STAND DOWN!" Raff yelled.

Ryan turned to see at least half of his platoon behind him, blasters aimed at his chest. It was then that Ryan's survival instincts kicked back in; he quickly raised his hands over his helmeted head.

Raff marched up to Ryan and was visibly keeping himself calm enough to speak.

"Trooper, I'm going to keep my men from shooting you for two reasons; first, because I don't want to search this temple for what this scum stole from my family with an under-staffed platoon, and second, because I'm _sure _that you're simply in shock, since this was your first combat-mission… _right_?"

Ryan was smart; he knew that Raff was offering him a lifeline, even if it meant being in the loathsome little man's debt. Also, that bit about the mercs stealing from Raff's family got him curious.

"Right, sir," Ryan said, then slowly moved to help Grif up, "Sorry about that, Grif; combat nerves, right?"

Grif nodded, though Ryan wasn't sure if he believed him or not.

Raff clapped his hands together. "Okay, platoon, here's what's going to happen: we will search this temple from top to bottom, until we find the Imperial property that was stolen, and we will return it to its rightful owners."

_Meaning you,_ Ryan thought darkly, _and even if I somehow get out of this alive, I doubt I or anyone else in the platoon will get any credit… not that these puppets will even care._

…

Over the next hour, the platoon went through the temple, searching room by room. Ryan was the only exception, however; he was forced to dispose of the dead bodies of the mercs. He was outside of the temple, laying the last body, the woman who'd tried to surrender, in a dignified position.

"I'm sorry," Ryan whispered to her, taking off his helmet to address her directly, ignoring the smell of the burnt flesh and muggy jungle.

While he had been moving the bodies, he noticed something odd: they weren't Mandalorians. Well, they might have been, but if they were, they were incredibly new to the trade. They weren't that muscled to be seasoned warriors, and from what he knew of the culture, it was rare for Mandalorians to leave their armor off, especially in a hostile environment.

So if they weren't Mandalorians, then who were they?

"_TK-8992," _Raff said into his helmet-comm, _"Rendezvous with the rest of us at the south side of the temple; we found what we were looking for."_

Ryan stood, nodded once more at the dead woman, then jogged off, his blaster holstered and his helmet under his arm.

…

When he reached his platoon, he was shocked by what they'd found; it was a veritable armory! On one table lay a large number of weapons, many of which were either so modified as to be unrecognizable, or custom, one-of-a-kind pieces. For someone who was enthusiastic about weapons, like Ryan, it was like striking gold.

Another table, this one propped up at an angle, five sets of Mandalorian armor lay gleaming in the sun. Assuming that they were real, they were made of Mandalorian iron, or _beskar_, a near-indestructible material. Lying next to the center suit was a saber, its tip ending in a cruel barb; again, assuming it was real, it was a _beskad_, a sword also made of Mandalorian iron.

Behind the two tables, however, was the biggest prize: a ship.

Painted dull-gray, it wasn't exactly a Naboo cruiser; it wouldn't be winning any beauty-contests, that was for sure. It was almost thirty meters long, and almost twenty wide at the center; it was roughly diamond-shaped, though the three large engines at the stern offset that image a bit. Each side of the ship had a quad-barreled cannon mounted on it that looked far too large for a ship of that tonnage. All in all, the ship looked mean, and probably could back up any threat it made.

"What…" Ryan finally tore his gaze away from the treasure-trove to look at his CO, "What is all of this?"

Raff turned to the Stormtrooper with a smirk, too pleased with himself to reprimand Ryan for not wearing his helmet, or failing to address him as "sir".

"This," he said, waving his hand at the find, "is one of the greatest collections of Mandalorian weaponry and equipment in this century; despite its age, everything here is better than anything in the standard Imperial arsenal… and it belongs to my family."

Gone was the ever-yelling Lieutenant; now, Raff acted more like an overeager, spoiled child, combined with a hint of megalomania.

"You're a Mandalorian, sir?" Ryan asked, his sarcastic mouth moving faster than his brain, which was still fixated on the ship.

"No, and no one in my family is," Raff admitted, "but my grandfather has spent a considerable sum of credits to obtain everything you see here, as well as ensuring its authenticity; even the ship was made by Mandalorian hands, and with Mandalorian iron."

Ryan's eyes nearly fell out of his head; if that was true, then this ship was nearly indestructible! Then he remembered something.

"What about those people?" he asked, "Were they Mandalorians?"

"Hmm? That rabble that you helped exterminate?" Raff said, as if he'd already forgotten, "Oh, no; they were thieves who'd ambushed my grandfather's ship last week. They left him unharmed, but took all of this; they left their own ship in exchange for the Mandalorian one. I'm surprised it was spaceworthy, to be honest; I thought it was just there to look fearsome."

"Then why did you tell us that we were hunting mercenaries?" Ryan demanded.

"Because I couldn't tell the higher-ups on the _Retribution_," Raff said, "If I did, they'd try to claim it for themselves, or try to sell it back to my grandfather; this way, my family doesn't have to pay for anything, and my standing in the family goes up."

Ryan was torn; one the one hand, he was furious with his CO for risking his life for his own personal gain. On the other hand, he was desperately fighting back the urge to say something that would get him court-martialed, or worse.

"But how are you going to sneak this aboard the _Retribution_?" Ryan asked.

"I won't be," Raff said, smug, "I've sent a personal holocall to my grandfather, who is sending a ship to retrieve the artifacts; we'll simply return to the ship, say that we eliminated the mercenaries, but couldn't find any useful data on the Rebels, then buried our fallen comrade on this stinking planet."

Ryan blinked. "Fallen comrade? Who died?"

Raff gestured to someone behind Ryan; when he turned, he saw the rest of the platoon, including Grif, aiming their blasters at him.

"Nobody yet," Raff said, "but very, very soon."

**Bam! First chapter: complete! I hope you enjoyed this, it isn't as long as most of my previous works, but this is an intro chapter. I should mention, however, that I do not have an encyclopedic knowledge of Star Wars, but I will do my best to be accurate. If I do make a glaring mistake, please send me a PM, and I will make the corrections as soon as possible. In addition, while this will be taking place within the original trilogy, I will be putting in a few things from "Clone Wars", "Force Unleashed", and "The Old Republic". Nothing too major, just stuff I liked.**

**Oh, and that ship? I made that up; I'll be accepting names for it via reviews until the next chapter! If one of you sends me a name that sounds cool, I will give you credit for it in that chapter!**

**I'll try to have the next chapter up within a week!**

**May the Muffin be with you!**


	2. Friends and Enemies

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S AND ANY DEVICES/WEAPONS/STUFF THAT DOES NOT APPEAR IN CANON BELONG TO ME. IF I CREATE A LIGHTSABER, WOULD I GET AWAY WITH CALLING IT THAT, OR WOULD I HAVE TO CHANGE THE NAME TO AVOID COPYRIGHT?**

**I should probably mention now that Ryan Nimbus has a lot of different facets about him, not the least of which is that he, unlike 99% of the other Stormtroopers, can actually hit stuff with his blaster. That automatically makes him Special Forces material, in my book.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 2

Friends and Enemies

**Yavin IV**

To say that it had been a bad day for Ryan Nimbus would be an understatement. In the last few hours, he'd been thrown into combat, something he'd tried to avoid, been witness to murder committed by someone he knew, discovered that he and his platoon had been used by their commanding officer for his own gain, and was now about to be executed by that same platoon.

So now it was time to do what he did best: try to get out alive.

"I don't suppose we can talk about this?" Ryan asked; if anyone in the platoon had any reservations, they were hidden behind their expressionless helmets.

"Oh, Nimbus," Lieutenant Raff said, shaking his head, like he was disciplining a naughty child, "did you honestly think you were that clever?"

"I do consider myself above-average in intelligence," Ryan said, then mentally cursed his own smart mouth, "but what exactly am I not clever about?"

"Hiding your own distaste for the Empire," Raff explained, his tone smug, "It would make the story of your death much more realistic; you ignored orders, and got yourself killed."

"Sir," Grif said, his voice cold, "permission to execute the traitor?"

_Who's the kriffing traitor, you piece of… _Ryan fumed; ever since they had been kids on Dantooine, they had stuck together. Ryan couldn't recall either of them ever calling the other their friend, but they had at least had each other's back. Grif had been too intimidating to bully, and Ryan was often too difficult to catch; if anyone did catch him, Grif had been there to back him up, or he'd been able to get out on his own. In return for the occasional backup, Ryan had helped Grif get through school, and even offered tips to get through some of the technical evaluations in training.

So much for gratitude.

The only reason Ryan was in this mess was because he'd promised Grif's mother that he'd watch out for him, and he'd idealistically believed that he should keep every promise he made. Now, after years of growing cynicism, he'd changed that. Ryan made a silent promise to himself: if he made it out of this alive, he would never make a promise if he thought it might come back to bite him later. Or if he did, he'd leave himself a backdoor to escape.

Speaking of possible escape…

"Really, Grif?" Ryan asked his sort-of friend, "After all we've been through, you're going to kill me, just like that?"

"You don't believe in the Empire," Grif said in a monotonous tone, "and that makes you a traitor; traitors to the Empire are shown no mercy!"

_So much for trying to get an ally, _Ryan thought ruefully. He couldn't see a way out of this; he was surrounded by a semicircle made by his platoon, and Raff was too far away to try to use him as a hostage to guarantee his escape. He could try to run, but he doubted he'd take more than a few steps before he was turned into a burnt corpse.

"Now then, Nimbus," Raff said, "Drop your weapon and get on your knees."

"You seriously think I'd be able to draw my blaster before you guys killed me?" Ryan asked; in the wake of not being able to escape, he'd resorted to bitter sarcasm.

"Of course not," Raff scoffed, "but that blaster is Imperial property, and we don't want that damaged; your armor will, sadly, have to be sacrificed in order to make your own more convincing."

While Ryan had done his best to avoid a painful end, that didn't mean he would go to it crying and begging; he wouldn't give Raff that satisfaction. His face could have been stone, for all the emotion he showed, as he slowly drew his E-11 and placed it on the ground; in an act of defiance, he contemptuously tossed his hated helmet to the side, letting it roll to a stop at Grif's feet.

"Just so you know," Ryan said, lowering himself to his knees, "I thought we were friends."

Grif's voice was steady as he answered, "The Empire and its loyal servants are my only friends."

"Kriffing puppet," Ryan murmured.

"Platoon, aim!" Raff said, raising his hand; the Stormtroopers were already aiming at Ryan, so he had to wonder why the order was even needed. Maybe they were too brainwashed to figure even that out on their own without orders.

Ryan had always thought that if he was going to die of unnatural causes, he'd be more afraid; strangely, he felt calm. He thought back to his life on Dantooine; his father, now dead for the last ten years, and his mother, who'd broken off all contact with her son after he'd joined the Empire.

_Well, at least she can't say that I died a murderer, _Ryan mused.

Raff dropped his hand in a chopping motion. "Fi…"

The command died on his lips when a _snap-hiss _caught his attention, as well as the attention of everyone else. A cloaked, hooded figure leapt over the heads of the would-be executioners, in front of Ryan; in the figure's hands was a silver tube, from which a meter-long blade of emerald energy blazed.

_Kriffing hell! _Thought Ryan, _that's a lightsaber!_

Despite the Empire's purge of all knowledge of the Jedi Order, Ryan knew some things about the Jedi, thanks to the stories his father had told him of when he'd served under the Jedi General Rahm Kota during the Clone Wars. One of those things was that only a Jedi could use a lightsaber effectively.

Raff shook off his shock at the Jedi's appearance. "Don't just stand there, you fools! Blast that Jedi!"

The Stormtroopers spread out, firing as they moved; each shot was easily deflected by the Jedi, some blaster bolts even striking the troopers. In a few seconds, four of the troopers had been killed by their own fire, causing the others to hesitate.

In the moment of calm, the Jedi turned its hooded head at Ryan, head tilted inquisitively; Ryan thought that the Jedi was going to say something, but then he saw one of the Stormtroopers aiming at the Jedi's exposed back. Acting on instinct, Ryan rolled to the side, scooping up his dropped weapon as he did so; in a fluid motion, he rose, aimed and fired. The trooper he targeted fell, a small hole going right through the left eye-lens of his helmet.

Ignoring the part of his mind that balked at killing, Ryan whirled to fire at another trooper, the Jedi defending them both with the lightsaber. In a few moments of frenzied combat, the platoon had been reduced to a mere three men, two of which were Grif and Raff. The others had fallen to either their own redirected fire, or Ryan's expert marksmanship.

Now, though, they had a problem: Grif and Raff had set up their repeating blasters and were delivering a withering barrage of fire. Even the Jedi was unable to deflect that many shots; Ryan and his would-be rescuer took cover behind a fallen stone.

"Any ideas?" Ryan asked, snapping a shot off and catching the remaining trooper in the throat, leaving only Grif and Raff.

Without replying, the Jedi pointed its hand at a large log; impossibly, the partially-sunken log ripped itself out of the ground, then propelled itself at Grif and Raff, forcing them to dodge.

_That was the Force! _Ryan realized; his father had told him about the mystical field of energy that supposedly surrounded everything in the galaxy, and how the Jedi could manipulate the Force to perform impossible feats.

The Jedi gestured from Ryan to their enemies, shaking Ryan out of his stupor. He could gawk later, but only if he survived this; he charged out of cover, firing at Raff. It was easy to tell the remaining enemies apart; Raff was a good half a meter shorter than Grif.

Ryan's shots caught Raff in the leg, then the arm, and then finally the chest, burning out his heart; just because the armor had been modified to fit Raff's small frame didn't mean it offered any more protection than any other Stormtrooper's.

The Jedi, meanwhile, was charging at Grif, who'd recovered fast enough to begin firing again; the Jedi dodged, effortlessly weaving between the rapid-fire of the blaster. In seconds, the Jedi had closed to within striking distance; in one sweep of the emerald blade, Grif's left arm had been cut off, the heat from the lightsaber instantly cauterizing the wound. Grif roared in pain, but actually tried punching the Jedi with his remaining arm; the Jedi easily ducked, then severed that arm, as well. Another sweep of the blade, and Grif's legs were gone; before his limbless torso hit the ground, the Jedi made a pushing motion with its hands, and Grif was hurled backwards, where Ryan lost sight of him.

_Wow, _Ryan thought in amazement, _note to self: never make a Jedi mad at me._

When the sound of combat finally faded, Ryan looked down at the men he'd killed; sure, he'd never liked them very much, but he'd been living with them for a year. Then again, they had been ready to kill him without hesitation; even Grif, who was the only Imperial soldier that Ryan had ever had any good will towards.

Swallowing his rising bile at the death around him, he moved towards the Jedi, who had yet to deactivate the lightsaber.

"So, thanks, I g…"

_Snap-hiss! _Ryan suddenly found himself at the business-end of a second lightsaber, shorter than the first and with a yellow blade. Ryan was thankful that it _was _a shorter blade; if it had been as long as the first, it would have impaled his head. As it was, the blade was still close enough for him to feel the heat on his face.

"I want no gratitude from you, _Imperial_," the Jedi hissed. Ryan blinked at the feminine voice; at least he knew what gender to assign the Jedi.

Said Jedi deactivated her larger blade and clipped it to her belt, then used her now-free hand to pull back her hood, revealing an orange-skinned humanoid with white marks on her face, as well as a pair of white head-tails that fell forward over her shoulders. The Togrutan glared at Ryan, eyes blazing with contained fury.

"Whoa, whoa!" Ryan dropped his blaster, but otherwise didn't move. "Didn't you see what just happened? They were going to kill me!"

"So?" the Jedi asked, "You're a Stormtrooper; you're all heartless killers! I only fought alongside you because it would have been easier than killing them all by myself."

"So much for Jedi compassion," Ryan muttered to himself, which turned out to be a mistake; the Jedi reactivated her first lightsaber and held it up to his throat.

"And what do you know about Jedi?" she said, before her voice turned mocking, "That they're terrorists? Practitioners of an archaic religion? Relics of the past?"

"Not according to my father," Ryan said, though he noticed that the Jedi said 'they're', instead of 'we're', "He told me that Jedi were selfless keepers of the peace who abhorred violence. He also told me stories of the Force, but until today, I didn't really believe in that."

The Jedi blinked, then lowered her lightsabers; Ryan sighed in relief. The Jedi came closer, the held out her hand until it was just shy of touching Ryan's face.

"Why do you bury it?" she asked, causing Ryan to blink in confusion, "Your courage, I mean; I can sense that you're very brave, but you try to keep it hidden. Why?"

Ryan jerked back a little in shock; how could she know about feelings that he'd kept buried for years?

"Because I don't want to be a hero," Ryan admitted, "My father came back from the Clone Wars nearly dead; in fact, his injuries _did _end up killing him. If you're a hero, you only end up dead."

"And yet, you chose to be a soldier?" the Jedi asked, an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

"I enlisted because I made a promise to keep an eye on Grif." Ryan hurried to explain when the Jedi's expression turned to confusion, "The guy you dismembered and threw into the jungle."

"Oh," the Jedi looked a little sheepish, "sorry about that."

Ryan glanced in the direction where Grif had been hurled, then shrugged. "It's okay; he kinda lost points with me after he tried to kill me."

Now that they were a little more relaxed, the Jedi deactivated her other lightsaber and clipped it to her belt; for a moment, her cloak parted, allowing Ryan to see that she was wearing a black-and-red outfit made out of tight leather over her well-toned body.

"Something the matter?" the Jedi asked.

"Nothing!" Ryan quickly looked away; the Jedi might have been attractive, but she was at least ten years older than him, and probably not interested. That, and she'd probably kill him if she thought he'd been ogling her.

"So," Ryan said, trying to change the subject, "Did you have a plan, other than saving me?"

"Saving you was a side-effect," she corrected, "I had planned on taking the Imperials' shuttle off of this planet, but when I found it, it was being tracked."

"Well, yeah," Ryan said, as if it was obvious, "The Empire hates losing its stuff; they put trackers on all of their ships and larger pieces of equipment. Blasters and standard armor don't, but then again, they're cheap." Then a thought occurred to him, "Why do you need a ship? Don't you have one of your own?"

The Jedi looked down in shame. "My ship was damaged, and I don't have the tools to repair it; I've been stuck here for almost two months, and now it looks like we'll be stuck here together."

"What are you talking about?" Ryan asked, "We have a ship all ready to go." The Jedi looked at him curiously; Ryan jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the Mandalorian ship. "That thing can get us out of here."

The Jedi looked at the ship, then back at Ryan. "It's a museum piece!"

"Not according to Raff," Ryan said, gesturing to the Lieutenant's corpse, "The previous owners stole it, and all the other stuff here, from his granddad; a Moff, to be precise. They gave up their old ship for this one, and flew it here."

The Jedi straightened up, her eyes shining with hope. "Let's go, then!"

"Um, what about all the stuff?" Ryan asked, gesturing to the weapons and armor.

"We can take it with us!" the Jedi waved her hand at the tables of gear, and they floated over to the open ramp of the ship.

"Take it where?" Ryan asked, even as he started gathering up the fallen Imperial weapons and supplies; it wouldn't hurt to have extra stuff.

"To the Rebel Alliance," the Jedi explained, "That's where I was headed before I came here."

Ryan froze; from what he knew of the Rebels, they treated most ex-Imperials fairly, especially if they had anything to offer. Ryan glanced at the stack of blasters in his arms; that could work to get him into the Alliance's good graces, but he decided that he'd keep the Mandalorian stuff. It was too good to give away to some random soldier.

"If that's the plan," Ryan said, "then we'd better hurry; Raff already placed a holocall to his grandfather to pick all of this up!"

The Jedi's expression turned serious, and the two worked quickly to move everything into the ship. The interior was fairly Spartan, but Ryan had been serving on a Star Destroyer for a year; he was used to a lack of ostentation. The two had a brief, self-guided tour of the ship, so that they knew where everything was; the ship had an armory, crew quarters, an engineering bay, cargo bay and a med-center.

Ryan was in love with the ship; it was perfect for anyone who wanted to be self-reliant, like him. He hated relying on outside sources for anything; yes, he and Grif had had each others' back when they were young, but for Ryan, that had been for his own self-preservation. When he got older, he'd become more independent, constantly training his body and mind; in fact, his assessment scores during training had suggested he be put into Imperial Special Forces, perhaps even the feared Imperial Intelligence. The only thing keeping him out of those organizations was his lackluster attitude towards combat.

Once they'd familiarized themselves with the ship, Ryan and the Jedi made their way to the cockpit, located five meters behind the nose. It wasn't too small; it could probably fit one or two more people besides Ryan and the Jedi, who were busy trying to understand the controls. Thankfully, that part was easy; whoever had built the ship had had ease of use in mind.

"Can we make the jump to hyperspace in this thing?" Ryan asked; he was a fair pilot and decent engineer, but the Jedi seemed to know ships a lot better than he did.

"Yep," the Jedi replied, much more at ease, "she's fueled and ready… I have to admit, this ship is nice. It might be decades old, but it's better than most ships I've ever seen."

"Lucky us," Ryan said, looking over the scanners, "but I hope we get a little bit more luck; the Moff's forces should be here soon."

"Don't worry," the Jedi said, tapping at the controls, "the Force is with us."

Ryan decided that, even though he now believed in the Force, he'd try to rely on things he could see and feel.

The ship shuddered for a moment as the engines came online, then it fell to a slight vibration as it took off. Ryan strapped himself in the copilot's seat, still keeping an eye on the scanners; if the Moff's forces arrived, he wanted to be aware of it.

"You arrived on Yavin in a shuttle, right?" the Jedi asked, not looking up from the controls, "Well, where's the Star Destroyer you were stationed on?"

Ryan checked the chronometer on his wrist. "The ship was going to resupply at a nearby station, then head back to pick us—I mean, the Imperials—up after the mission was over. They probably won't be back for a few standard hours."

"Great," the Jedi said, inputting a set of hyperspace coordinates, "then we've got a good window."

"I just hope the hyperdrive actually works," Ryan muttered; Raff had never said that the thieves had escaped into hyperspace when they'd stolen the ship. For all he knew, the theft had occurred inside the Yavin system.

Thankfully, the hyperdrive did work, and the pair watched as the stars seemed to stretch as the ship hit light-speed.

…

**Hyperspace, En Route to the Rebel Fleet**

Ryan spent some time getting to know his new ship better; he decided that, since his old life was effectively over, thanks to the Empire, he was owed something from them. The ship seemed like a good consolation.

The Jedi assured him that the ship would meet up with meet up with the Rebel fleet in a few hours, though he wasn't completely sure that "the Force will guide us" was a good assurance. Still, it was the only hope Ryan had at the moment; since his entire life had been irrevocably changed, he needed all the hope he could get.

In less than a day, his safe little world had been shattered, and now the only thing he could see in his immediate future was uncertainty and danger… and for some reason, he wasn't as afraid as he thought he would be. Sure, he was still scared, but for someone who'd been trying to _avoid _danger for most of his life, he felt excited at the prospect of facing it. It was an odd sensation, to say the least.

"_Hey, Stormtrooper," _the Jedi's voice rang out, _"I just found the ship's intercom. Anyway, we should be meeting up with the Rebel Fleet soon, so I thought you might want to get out of that armor."_

After a bit of fumbling around, Ryan found the intercom system in the room he was in. "Why?"

"_The Rebels might shoot you on sight if they see that armor," _the Jedi answered.

"Umm, I don't exactly have anything else to wear," Ryan admitted, "All of my stuff was on the _Retribution_, and it's not like I can go back there."

"_True, you can't go back for your personal effects," _the Jedi said, _"but aren't there a few sets of Mandalorian armor that you could use?"_

That brought Ryan up short; there _were_ sets of armor for him in the cargo bay and, unlike the cheap plastoid he was wearing now, Mandalorian armor would keep him alive in a firefight. Grinning, he rushed to the cargo bay and began inspecting the armor.

The five suits were of different sizes; they'd probably designed for the original owner in mind. After a few minutes, he decided on the center suit; it was about his size, with plates that protected most of his body. The only weaknesses he saw were in the joints, which were protected by a durable mesh-like material.

After taking off his Stormtrooper armor, Ryan slipped on the Mandalorian armor, and marveled at how comfortable it was. The armor wasn't decorated, or even painted, exposing the dull metal; Ryan decided to change that when he got the chance.

Before he slipped on the helmet, a rounded piece of armor with a thin, triangular visor, rather than the traditional T-shaped one, he noticed a jetpack among the equipment. Despite the maneuverability that such an item granted, Ryan decided against strapping what was essentially a giant rocket to his back.

After putting on the helmet, he activated the heads-up display to see if this armor had any surprises he should know about.

_Hmm, built-in flamethrower on the left gauntlet, mini-rockets on the right, as well as a hidden blade under the right wrist. No fuel for the flamethrower, no mini-rockets left, either; guess I'll have to take care of that, too._

After checking that the armor was working, Ryan moved to check out his armament; he spent some time looking over the armory he now possessed. After a few minutes, he decided on a blaster carbine, though he wasn't sure what model it was. It was angular, unlike the rounded E-11 he was used to, and the barrel didn't extend more than an inch; it was also fairly light, so Ryan figured that he could use it with one hand, if necessary. After finding out that he could use the same power-packs as the Imperial blasters, he loaded up and mag-locked the carbine to his right thigh.

As a backup, he picked a large blaster pistol, which had single-shot and burst settings, as well as a _beskar _dagger. As an afterthought, he took the _beskad _and its sheath and attached it to his back. He was by no means a master of using a sword, but his father had taught him how to use a melee weapon, so he knew a little bit more than just swinging wildly and hope to hit something. Still, he'd start practicing as soon as possible.

…

When Ryan made his way back to the cockpit, the Jedi did a double-take at the sight of his intimidating appearance.

"Do you think you have enough weapons?" she asked sardonically.

"In the Empire, we were given one blaster and a few thermal detonators," Ryan explained as he sat down and took off his helmet, "If we ran out of ammo or weapons, we were expected to charge the enemy with nothing but our fists; barring that, we were to 'die with honor', or some tripe like that."

The Jedi snorted in amusement. "No wonder you didn't have any qualms about leaving."

The two sat in comfortable silence, just watching the stars zip by. Ryan drew his dagger and spun it around for a while, before speaking again.

"You know, I don't think I gave you my name."

"And I don't think I gave you mine."

Ryan smiled. "Ryan Nimbus, ex-Imperial."

The Jedi smiled back. "Ahsoka Tano, ex-Padawan of the Jedi Order."

The two fell back into silence; Ryan went back to spinning his dagger, while Ahsoka watched him out of the corner of her eye and allowed her mind to go back to a few hours ago.

When she had seen the Stormtroopers about to execute Ryan, she had been tempted to let them; one less Imperial for her to worry about. But then the Force had nudged at her mind; it was as if it was warning her that Ryan needed to live. For what purpose, she didn't know, but she felt it was imperative that he get to the Rebels as soon as possible.

Still, when she'd first met him, she couldn't imagine why the Force would want her to save someone who purposely suppressed his own courage. Then again, when she reached out with the Force now, she felt that courage coming to the surface; it was as if Ryan didn't have any other choice, since he was backed into a corner in many respects.

Maybe there was hope for him yet.

"So, Ahsoka," Ryan said, leaning back in his seat, "why are you headed to the Rebellion?"

Ahsoka sighed. "I didn't want to, at first; then, a few months ago, I felt something in the Force. First, I felt a massive loss of life; I realized later that it was the Empire's destruction of Alderaan."

Ryan winced; he'd heard of the death of that peaceful world, thanks to the Death Star, but some small part of him had hoped that it wasn't true, that the Empire wouldn't stoop to the murder of whole worlds. He was wrong.

"Shortly after that," Ahsoka continued, "I felt another loss, this one of someone familiar; I believe that a Jedi that I knew was killed. Finally, around the time of the Death Star's destruction, I felt another presence in the Force. This one seemed… familiar, so I decided to seek it out."

Ryan decided not to comment on that; he didn't know enough about the Force to be helpful.

"What about you?" Ahsoka asked, "What are you going to do once we reach the Rebels?"

"I'm not sure," Ryan admitted, "but I'm not sure if I want to join them."

"Really?" Ahsoka asked, confused, "I would have thought that you'd jump at the chance to fight back against the Empire, since they tried to kill you."

"I never said that I wouldn't fight the Empire," Ryan clarified, "but I just got out from Imperial service; I'm not sure if I'm ready to pledge myself to another organization, at least not until I've gotten a measure of them."

Ahsoka nodded; it made sense. "But what are you going to do about supplies, finances, and the like?"

Ryan waved his arm around the cockpit. "I've got a ship, weapons and gear; I could easily hire myself out as a mercenary."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow again. "What makes you think the ship is yours?"

Ryan suddenly got nervous; he hadn't really considered that Ahsoka might want the ship, too. If she did, there probably wasn't a lot he could do about it; she could just knock him out with the Force and take the ship, leaving him on some barren rock.

Seeing the look on his face, Ahsoka laughed. "Don't worry, I'm only teasing you; I'm not sure what I'll do once we meet up with the Rebellion, but I have a feeling that my destiny is with them."

Inwardly, Ryan sighed; that was one problem that he no longer had to worry about.

"Still," Ryan said, in an act of good will, "I guess I can give you a lift whenever I'm in the neighborhood."

"Thanks," Ahsoka said, still in a good mood, "but what are you going to call her?"

"Huh?"

"It's bad luck to have a ship without a name," Ahsoka said, "and I can't find any sort of registry in the computers. I guess you could rename her."

Ryan looked up for a moment and chuckled. "I'm on the run from the galaxy's dominant power, I'm traveling in a ship that's older than I am with someone I don't know, and I'm headed to an unknown destination, probably towards the type of danger that I've spent a good portion of my life avoiding. I've got no money, no supplies and barely any ammunition; I'm in pretty desperate times; what about… the _Desperate Measures_?"

Ahsoka opened her mouth to speak, but an alert from the computer preempted her; the alert said that the ship was nearing its destination. With a slight shudder, the ship decelerated, then stopped altogether; much to Ryan's surprise, the Rebel fleet was only a few kilometers ahead of them.

In all honesty, however, calling it a fleet would have been exaggerating; there was almost no uniformity, no cohesion and the ships could only be called "in formation" in the loosest sense of the word. Every ship bore scars and welds; some of them looked like the only thing keeping them in one piece was spit and prayer.

"Looks like _Desperate Measures _might be a good name after all," Ahsoka said, "If things are as bad as they look now, these are certainly desperate times."

…

**Yavin IV**

It was a few hours after the _Desperate Measures _departed Yavin that the ship that Lieutenant Raff had called arrived; when it did, it disgorged a company of Stormtroopers. However, these troopers were not wearing the traditional white armor that typified the Imperial military; these Stormtroopers wore dark-gray armor, a single stripe of white crossing from their right shoulder to their left hip.

These were the personal troops of Moff Laar, and some of the best-trained soldiers that the Empire had to offer; only Imperial Intelligence could boast of having better-trained operatives.

In quick efficiency, the troops scoured the jungle around the temple, noting the fallen Stormtroopers, particularly the body of the Moff's grandson. The CO of the company immediately contacted the Moff upon seeing the body.

Holding up the device on his right wrist, the CO tapped a few buttons; in a few seconds, the blue hologram of a rakishly-thin man with a receding hairline and perpetual sneer appeared. His dress uniform was immaculate; the only thing out of place was the ragged scar that crossed the left side of his jaw, the result of a lost duel when he was young.

"_Commander, what is it?" _the Moff demanded in an aristocratic tone, _"Have you found my stolen property?"_

"I'm sorry to say, sir, that we haven't yet found the ship, the weapons or the armor," the Commander said.

"_Then why in the name of the Emperor are you calling me?"_

"Because, sir," the Commander swallowed nervously under the scrutiny of the Moff, "I wanted to inform you that we found your grandson. Unfortunately, he and his platoon are… dead, sir."

Laar blinked, then seemed to sag for a moment; then it was over, and he stood up straight again, the only sign of stress being his narrowed eyes.

"_I see," _he said, anger and grief coloring his voice, _"What happened to my grandson, Commander?"_

"From the wounds of his men, it would seem that most died to blaster-fire," the Commander answered, "Though some of his men's deaths seemed to have been caused by… lightsaber, sir."

Laar considered this for a moment before saying anything. _"So, it would appear that one of the Jedi that survived the Purge is responsible, and it appears that he or she has allies… Commander, I want you to find out every detail, leave _nothing _out of your report!"_

"Yes, sir!" the Commander said, right before the hologram dissolved.

"Commander!" the CO turned to see one of his men jogging up to him, "Sir, we found a survivor!"

Eyes wide behind his helmet, the Commander followed his subordinate to where a pair of medics had set up a triage station around the sole survivor of Raff's platoon. To be honest, though, there wasn't much left of the man to survive; his limbs had been severed, and it looked like his head had been smashed against a rock, leaving shards of his plastoid helmet imbedded in his skull. Miraculously, he was not only alive, he was still conscious.

"Will he make it?" he asked one of the medics softly.

The man shrugged. "Whatever took his limbs cauterized the wounds; the worst of the bleeding came from his head injury, but initial scans say he'll probably pull through. I'd say he's got at least a sixty percent chance."

"Can I speak to him?"

The medic shrugged again. "I don't see why not; I can't guarantee he'll answer, though."

The Commander knelt down by the dismembered trooper. "Can you tell us what happened? Can you tell us who did this to you?"

The injured man glanced up at him. "One… condition…" he wheezed.

The Commander raised an eyebrow at the odd request. "What condition?"

"I… help you… kill them…" the man said, his voice tinged with anger.

The Commander wasn't sure how the man was going to be of help, but with the Moff's resources, he might be able to help.

"I don't see why not," he said, "What's your name, soldier?"

The trooper grinned, despite the pain. "My name… is Grif…"

**Okay, first of all, I want to thank my brother, who happened to be walking by as I was wondering about ship names, and he suggested **_**Desperate Measures**_**, so thanks. I mean, it makes sense; Ryan is on the run, low on just about everything, and isn't even sure the Rebellion will help him. These are indeed desperate times.**

**Oh, right, so about Ahsoka: she will be in several chapters, but she will not be a common character, nor will she be Ryan's love interest, despite what I wrote about her. I don't know why a lot of people seemed to hate her; I liked her in "Clone Wars". More information on what she's been doing over the years will come next chapter, I promise.**

**When coming up with Ryan's armor, I picked something similar to the standard Bounty Hunter armor that most Mandalorian NPC's in "The Old Republic" seemed to use, but minus the jetpack, and add in the weapons I mentioned. **

**As for Moff Laar, his troops, and Grif? Well, that's a secret, my friends!**

**The shield is down! Commence attack on the Death Muffin's main reactor!**


	3. Assembling the Team

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, BUT MY OC'S DO. TREAT THEM WELL, AND THEY MAY NOT SHOOT YOU.**

**I am really glad I did this story; in my previous works, I've been following the well-established plot of the canon material. This story, however, is using events only parallel to the canon stuff; it might intersect at a few points, but most of it is built from scratch. This is great practice for me!**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 3

Assembling the Team

"You have _got _to be kidding," Ryan Nimbus, ex-Stormtrooper said, "You have got to be kriffing kidding me! _That's_ the Rebel Alliance? I was better off with the Empire!"

"But the Empire was going to kill you," Ahsoka Tano, ex-Jedi pointed out.

"To be honest, it was my greedy son-of-a-Hutt CO that was going to kill me," Ryan corrected, then pointed at one of the pieces of junk that constituted a Rebel ship. "But that's beside the point; besides, when the reactor on one of those things explodes while I'm on board, the same result will happen!"

Ahsoka couldn't really argue with either point; the Empire in itself wasn't guilty of betraying Ryan. His Lieutenant, however, had been the grandson of a Moff, and a Moff had an incredible amount of resources to throw away; he might as well be on the run from the Empire in its entirety. He was also right about the danger of being on the fleet; every ship she could see looked like it was on its last legs.

"Still," Ahsoka argued, "the Force led us here for a reason; I'm willing to reserve judgment for now."

Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as a massive shape flew over them. Both he and Ahsoka were stunned by the size of the vessel; it was even larger than a Star Destroyer, and those were a kilometer long! It was a dark gray, and oval-shaped, with large, asymmetrical bulges on all sides; even from a distance, Ryan could spot dozens of turbolaser batteries, ion cannons, and other weapons.

A beeping on the console next to him jarred him out of his shock; after fumbling around the still-unfamiliar controls, he finally answered the oncoming hail.

"_Attention, unidentified vessel, this is _Home One_ of the Rebel Alliance," _an authoritative voice said, _"State your identity and your intentions or you will be fired upon."_

Ryan and Ahsoka stared at each other in alarm, before the latter lunged for the communicator.

"This is Ahsoka Tano and Ryan Nimbus aboard the _Desperate Measures_," she said, "Please, hold your fire; our intentions are peaceful."

"_And why should I believe you?" _the voice asked. This time, Ryan didn't try to resist eye-rolling as he pushed Ahsoka aside.

"Because she's a Jedi, you kriffing idiot!" he barked, "Now let us in!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, during which Ahsoka shot Ryan an incredulous look. Ryan only shrugged; he didn't really like the guy's attitude, even if it was warranted.

"What?" he asked, "I've had a rough day; I don't want to deal with this guy right now."

"And _I_ don't want to get blasted out of the sky!" Ahsoka argued.

"Good luck with that," Ryan said, "This baby is made of Mandalorian iron; it would take a lot to break her."

"The whole ship!?" Ahsoka asked, astonished; if that was true, the _Desperate Measures _would be counted as one of the toughest ships in the galaxy, not to mention one of the most expensive.

During their conversation, Ryan noted that they were receiving a signal. "Sorry, _Home One_, did you say something?"

There was a muffled sigh as the voice came back. _"We're sending you coordinates for our port hangar bay; there's someone here who wants to meet your Jedi friend."_

Ryan looked at Ahsoka curiously as she maneuvered the ship to the gaping maw of _Home One_'s hangar.

"Were you expected?" he asked.

"I think so," Ahsoka said, though she sounded unsure, "I sense at least two Jedi aboard, and another who is Force-sensitive, but that one seems… rough, I suppose, like that person is still learning about the Force."

Ryan filed that information away in his mind; he'd think about the Jedi later. At the moment, he busied himself with organizing his little gift to the Rebellion; he had moved all of the custom weapons from the table that they'd rested on to the room he'd designated as the armory, and placed the Imperial weapons he and Ahsoka had appropriated onto the table. With that done, he put on his helmet; the seals activated with a muffled hiss.

He felt a brief impact as the _Desperate Measures _landed, then met up with Ahsoka at the ramp, the weapons in tow. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you planning on terrifying the Rebels when you step out of this ship?" she asked.

"Hey, _you _suggested I wear this, not me," Ryan protested, his voice coming out slightly synthesized, "Besides, if they did shoot me, at least this armor will keep me alive, unlike that junk the Empire calls standard-issue."

Ahsoka really had no response to that, so she lowered the ramp; in front of them, a squad of ten Rebel soldiers of varying species stood ready, their weapons not quite aimed at them, but their fingers were on the triggers.

Ryan looked over the troops with a critical eye. It didn't look like the Rebels knew what they were doing; they hadn't taken cover, which would have been sensible when greeting an unknown party, and their fields of fire had several blind spots. Even without the protection of his armor, Ryan was moderately sure that he could have taken most, if not all, of the Rebels down by himself.

At least, until another person arrived. He was a tall, older human with a receding hairline of white hair; he wore plated armor under a practical combat robe. Attached to his shoulder was a lightsaber hilt, easily marking him as a Jedi. The odd thing, the thing that made Ryan do a double-take to make sure he wasn't mistaken, was the Jedi's eyes; they were gray and dull, and the flesh around the eyes looked slightly burned.

This Jedi was blind, yet he was calmly strolling towards them as if he could see.

When the man was within a meter of Ahsoka and Ryan, he smiled and bowed in the former's direction.

"Ahsoka Tano," the man said in a gravelly voice, "I was saddened by your decision to leave the Order all those years ago; however, it seems that that choice saved your life, for you weren't at the Temple during the Empire's assault on it."

Ahsoka smiled back and gave a bow. "Master Rahm Kota, I'm glad that you're still alive as well; how have you been?"

_He's _the _General Kota!?_ Ryan thought with a start, _he's the guy Dad served under!_

Kota shrugged, then gestured to his unseeing eyes. "Losing my sight was a bad time for me, I'll admit, but things have improved; with you here, I think they'll only get better. But enough about me, who's your silent friend here, and why is he staring at me?"

It took Ryan a moment to clear his head; he was momentarily lost in memories of his father's stories about how amazing Kota had been in the Clone Wars, and now that man was standing right in front of him!

"My name is Ryan Nimbus, sir," Ryan said, holding out his hand; it took him a second to remember that Kota was blind, but the aging General shook the extended hand easily enough.

"Nimbus…" Kota tilted his head curiously, "That name sounds familiar…"

"My father served under you in the Clone Wars," Ryan explained, "His name was Harold Nimbus."

Kota actually grinned. "Ha! Now I remember; the men used to call him 'Hard-hitting Harry'. Great soldier, even better person; how is he?"

Ryan's excitement dimmed somewhat. "I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but he died ten years ago… he never really recovered from his injuries."

Kota's expression turned neutral. "I'm sorry to hear that; I considered him a friend. Still, it's wonderful to see his son before me now."

"You can't _see_ anything," Ryan said, "let alone your friend's son." It took him a moment to realize how offensive that sounded. "Sir, I'm sorry, I…"

To his surprise, Kota laughed. "You're more like your father than I thought! Harry was always shooting his mouth off more than his blaster! I like you, kid!"

The good mood was interrupted by one of the Rebel soldiers. "General, we're on a deadline, sir."

"Right, of course," Kota said, turning serious, "So, Padawan Tano, Nimbus, why are you here?"

"I was felt the Force calling me here," Ahsoka said, bowing her head slightly, "though beyond that, I don't know; I suppose that I am at your disposal. I should also remind you that I am no longer a Jedi; I left the Order, as you pointed out."

Kota nodded, but seemed unconcerned. "The ones who stood against you at your trial are long dead; if you wish, I can help you finish your training. As a Master, I have the authority to make you a full Knight."

Ahsoka turned thoughtful, as the General turned to Ryan. "And what about you, Nimbus? Why are you here?"

"I'm not really sure," Ryan admitted, "I was just trying to stay alive, really; my old 'friends' among the Empire tried to kill me earlier today, and I'm pretty sure that they might try again."

"You have friends among the Empire?" Kota asked with a frown.

Ryan shrugged. "Consider me an official Imperial deserter, General."

Kota's expression brightened up. "You've made the right choice, son; but what have you got behind you?"

Ryan turned his helmeted head slightly to look at the table. "Consider these weapons my contribution to the Rebel cause."

"I'm sure that we'll find a use for these," Kota said with a smile, as he gestured to a pair of Rebel soldiers. They took the table and carried the weapons off.

"Master Kota," Ahsoka said, "is there someone we can talk to? Someone in charge? I'd like to see what I can do for the Rebellion."

"The only member of the Rebellion's leadership aboard this ship at the moment is Mon Mothma," Kota said, causing Ahsoka to stiffen, "and judging from your reaction, I don't think you want to see her."

"Um, am I missing something?" Ryan asked, "Aren't you a General? Aren't _you_ part of the Alliance leadership?"

Kota shook his head ruefully. "My role within the Rebellion is an advisory one; occasionally, I'll lead teams of troops, but that's the extent of it. Well, that and teaching the ways of the Force, when I can free up the time."

"I knew I sensed other Jedi aboard!" Ahsoka crowed, her earlier discomfort momentarily forgotten, "Who else is here? Other survivors from the Order?"

"Sadly, no," Kota said, before brightening up again, "One is a skilled Jedi in his own right; he's one of the most powerful Force-wielders I've ever seen. The other… well, you might find him familiar, even if you've never met before."

Both Ryan and Ahsoka looked at him curiously, but Kota only smiled and gestured for them to follow him. Before Ryan did so, he gestured for one of the Rebel troops to come up to him.

"Hey, don't let anyone near my ship; I haven't worked out everything about her yet, and I don't want anyone hurt by accident because of something I don't know about." His eyes narrowed at a stubby astromech droid that was wheeling itself closer, "No droids, either."

"Of course, sir; I'll have a security detail posted."

Satisfied, Ryan hurried after the pair of Jedi; despite the Rebel's assurances, however, no one noticed a figure making its way through the shadows, towards the _Desperate Measures_.

…

Ryan and Ahsoka followed Kota through the winding maze that was _Home One_. In Ryan's mind, the ship seemed a bit complicated for a warship; when he mentioned such to Kota, the General nodded in agreement.

"This ship used to be a luxury liner," he said, "but it was repurposed for warfare. It might be a little on the fancy side, but there's a reason that this old girl is the flagship of the fleet."

"Why not just build a warship?" Ahsoka asked, her head constantly turning as she took in her surroundings.

"The Rebellion might have money," Kota explained, "but it doesn't have the infrastructure or the time to make new ships, not to mention the time to train people in their operation, what with the Empire constantly hounding us. Until we can secure a position of strength so that we can do otherwise, it's easier to repurpose other ships, using the crews that already know them."

Ryan nodded; it made sense, at least for the short term. However, if the Rebellion had any hope of defeating the near-inexhaustible resources of the Empire, they'd need real warships, and they'd need them fast.

"Ah, here we are," Kota said, stopping at a large door, which opened with a muffled hiss, "Mon Mothma is expecting you."

As Ahsoka led the way in, Kota put a hand on her shoulder. "Try to let go of the past; defeating the Empire is more important than holding onto old grudges."

Ahsoka's expression was neutral as she nodded; a few seconds after she went inside, Ryan took off his helmet to look Kota in the eye, even if the man was blind.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Ryan said, "and try to keep her from doing something stupid."

Kota raised an eyebrow. "How do you know she might do that? You're not Force-sensitive, are you?"

"No," Ryan answered, "but she had that look in her eye; you might not have seen it."

"You're going to keep making blind jokes, aren't you?"

"Only until it's no longer funny."

With a smirk that the older man couldn't see, Ryan followed Ahsoka inside; the room was well-lit, with comfortable-looking chairs and some refreshments laid out on the table in the center of the room. Obviously, the Rebellion wanted to make a good impression on Ahsoka and, by extension, him.

Ryan sat next to Ahsoka, who was taking a sip of water; he poured himself a cup, then snagged a pastry off the table.

"So," Ryan said, after eating his snack, "you have some issues with this Mon Mothma person?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "It's not that she did anything against me, exactly, but she was supposed to be a good friend to the Senator who was representing me in my trial, and yet she offered no support."

"This is the second time I've heard about this trial; what exactly were you on trial for?"

Ahsoka's face tilted down, her expression downcast. "The Jedi Temple was attacked, and a lot of people died. I tried to find the person responsible, and ended up getting framed for the attack. Hardly anyone believed that I was innocent; most of my friends didn't, neither did the Senate, not even the Jedi Council."

The more the ex-Jedi spoke, the more Ryan felt for her; from what he'd heard, Jedi often joined the Order at very young ages, so having the people who took her in and raised her think that she was a terrorist had to be the worst.

"The only person who trusted me completely was Senator Padme Amidala," Ahsoka continued, "She was a good friend, and a friend to my Master, Anakin Skywalker; still, even with the skill she had in politics and law, I was going to be found guilty."

"I'm guessing something happened to change that?" Ryan asked.

Ahsoka nodded. "Master Skywalker found the real culprit: another Jedi, named Barriss Offee, who I had considered a friend. Still, even with the real traitor exposed, I couldn't stay with the Order; how could I ever trust them again, when they so easily threw away their trust in me?"

Ryan put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy. "I'm sorry that that happened to you, Ahsoka; hopefully, things will be different this time."

Ahsoka briefly smiled, but then another door opened and her expression turned neutral again; Ryan removed his hand as a middle-aged woman, presumably Mon Mothma, entered the room. She wore a white, shapeless dress and a silver necklace around her neck. While she maintained an air of regality, Ryan could see the circles under her eyes, and the tightness around her mouth; this woman was clearly stressed, but she was doing her best to hide it.

_Politician, _his mind screamed, _definitely wants to win us—or rather, Ahsoka—over, but can't do that if she seems crabby; it might drive her away._

"Ah, Ahsoka Tano," the Mon Mothma said, "it's so good to see that you've eluded the Empire's Jedi-hunters."

"It wasn't that hard," Ahsoka said in an even tone, "they weren't exactly looking for _ex_-Jedi."

Mothma nodded. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for any role I played in your decision to leave the Order; at the time, the evidence against you was overwhelming."

Ryan didn't need to be Force-sensitive to know that Mothma's regret was, if not false, then very exaggerated; while serving in the Empire, he'd tried many times to get posted to a less-annoying unit, but each time he did, an officer would heave an exaggerated sigh of sympathy, and say that it was impossible. Reminded of that, he couldn't help but be irritated on the Jedi's behalf.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, _was _Force-sensitive, and could read through Mothma's false regret with ease; she could tell that Mothma simply didn't care about something that happened almost twenty years ago. Mothma could see that she wasn't earning points with either of them, so she switched topics.

"Still, it is good that you've come to the Rebellion; with the Empire's resources, we'll need all the Force-users we can find."

Ahsoka nodded. "I agree with you there, and I'll do all I can to help the Rebellion win."

Mon Mothma nodded almost absently. "Yes, I am sure that you will. Of course, you will have to complete your training, correct? If I recall, you left the Order as a Padawan; as such, you won't be much use if your skills aren't at their best."

Ryan bristled at the unintentional insult to his friend. He'd seen her take down most of a Stormtrooper platoon without breaking a sweat; if that didn't prove that she had the skills necessary to help fight the Empire, he didn't know what did. On top of that, he didn't like the way Mon Mothma had said that Ahsoka would be 'of use'.

_Wait, when did I consider her a friend?_ He asked himself, _we just met today!_

Then again, he did get along with her, and they'd fought side-by-side; at the very least, that made them allies. Maybe later they could be friends; then again, Ahsoka was the first friendly face he'd seen today, so maybe he was just trying to hold onto that.

Ahsoka, meanwhile, was drawing on all of her patience, so that she didn't knock Mon Mothma through the nearest bulkhead. She kept telling herself that Mothma was tired, and her political savvy was slipping as a result; still, that didn't help her ire at the slights headed her way. What also didn't help were the waves of smoldering anger coming from Ryan; he seemed to be taking just as much offense as she was, maybe even more.

Mon Mothma seemed to notice that she'd upset the pair again. "I'm sorry, have I offended you, Ahsoka, or you…?" she trailed off, mostly because she didn't even know who the armored man was.

"Ryan Nimbus," came the growled reply, "and I've been sitting here—very politely, I might add—listening to you insult this Jedi who risked her life to save mine, then get us here. And before you correct me and say that she was just a Padawan, I've seen her in action; I don't think a student could take down an entire platoon of Stormtroopers without getting a scratch."

Mothma response to Ryan's little tirade was to blink twice, then stare at him coolly. "Clearly, I _have_ offended you; for that, I apologize. As for you, Ahsoka, I also apologize for any insult I may have inadvertently given; though it is no excuse, I have been running myself ragged trying to gain new allies for the Alliance, and am not at my best."

Ryan relaxed somewhat, but his dark expression didn't change; Ahsoka, on the other hand, gave a small smile, though it seemed forced.

"I understand, Mon Mothma, and in one respect, you are right: I do need to finish my training. Fortunately, General Kota has offered his services in that regard. Until then, can I assume that my role within the Rebellion will be to stand ready?"

Mon Mothma nodded, slightly relieved that the Jedi didn't walk out on this meeting. "And what about you, Mr. Nimbus? Why are you here?"

Ryan shrugged. "I've recently deserted the Empire; at the moment, my only choices are to either fight them, or let them kill me, and I really don't want to die."

"Well, the Alliance could use a talented soldier," Mon Mothma said, "What skills do you have that could be of use?"

_Again with that 'of use' thing, _Ryan thought, but kept that silent.

"Well, I was rated for Special Forces, and I heard a rumor that Imperial Intelligence wanted to get its hands on me. The only thing that kept me from getting put in either group was that I tended to mouth off to my superiors, and I wasn't exactly the most patriotic of Imperial citizens."

Mothma picked up a datapad and tapped at a few keys before answering. "Do you think you could train our troops?"

Now it was Ryan's turn to stare. "What?"

"I don't know if you're aware," Mothma explained, "but many of our troops are ill-equipped and inexperienced; we lack the experienced personnel to create a professional army. We need professional soldiers to get our own up to par with the Empire's."

Ryan took a moment to consider this; on the one hand, he was being offered the kind of job he'd been after for a long time. Training new troops would be a way to be productive, and he'd probably stay far away from any danger. On the other hand, ever since fighting against Raff and his platoon, Ryan had felt a conspicuous absence of the usual fear he felt; maybe it was time to take a more direct role against the Empire.

Finally, he came to a decision.

"No thanks."

Both Mon Mothma and Ahsoka looked stunned at the outright refusal, so Ryan hurried to explain what he meant.

"I'm not teacher material; if I tried teaching a bunch of troops, all you'd get would be a pack of dangerous, smart-mouthed cynics. If you want me on the field, I can do that, but… but I won't be a Rebel soldier."

"What do you mean?" Mon Mothma asked, "If you aren't a soldier on our side, what are you?"

Ryan gave a lopsided grin. "To tell you the truth, Imperial pay was lousy; I'd be more than willing to accept missions… for a price."

"You're a mercenary," Mon Mothma said in a semi-accusatory tone.

"I prefer the term 'Independent Enforcement Operative'," Ryan shot back, as another idea hit him, "But I can still help the Alliance in another way."

"How's that?" Ahsoka asked, though she seemed amused with all of this, "You just said that you won't be an official member of the Rebellion."

"I can still teach," Ryan explained, his excitement for his budding idea growing, "but I prefer to work with people who don't really fit into the status quo; maybe that's why I hated being a Stormtrooper. I can take the people who don't fit in, or break the rules, or your people consider failures; let me take them on as an independent force, and I'll bring 'em up to my standards. Our job can be to take from the Empire and give to the Rebellion; intel, weapons, ammo, supplies, you name it. While we're at it, we can be a real pain in the Empire's collective backside; consider the prices we name to be hazard-pay, if you want."

Ahsoka wasn't even trying to hide her grin at the audacity of what Ryan was asking; Mon Mothma, on the other hand, was making one of the most graceful scowls he'd ever seen.

"I don't like the idea of you taking our troops for your own personal army," she said.

"Not an army," Ryan corrected, "just a team; I'm not big on large groups, so a handful of people will do. Besides, this way you don't have to deal with the troublemakers as often; only when we come back to resupply or bring back stuff."

Mon Mothma sighed; as much as she hated to admit it, Ryan's plan actually made sense. An independent force that could quickly do damage to the Empire, as well as supply the Rebellion with fresh equipment, something they were almost always short of. And if Ryan really was good enough to get considered for Imperial Intelligence, and he trained a squad to be even half that good, they would be a force to be reckoned with. At the very least, there was no risk to her people; Ryan and his team would be an asset at best, a disposable weapon at worst.

"What kind of personnel do you want?" she said tiredly.

Ryan tried and failed to hide a triumphant smile. "Well, I need a medic; if we're going to be thrown into Hell, we'll need someone to patch us up. I'll also need a tech expert, someone to slice Imperial computers. I'm not sure about all the specs of my ship, so I could use an engineer… oh, and a heavy-weapons expert, too. Don't worry about personality issues; I've dealt with brainwashed Stormtroopers, and nothing is more irritating than that."

Mon Mothma sighed again. Still, it could be worse; he could have asked for a lot more, and it wasn't like the Rebellion was short on funds. It was the one thing they seemed to have in abundance.

"Very well; I'll get a few people diverted to your ship. In the meantime, welcome aboard _Home One_, both of you; make yourselves comfortable, because we really don't know how long this sort of respite lasts."

…

After the meeting was over, Ryan and Ahsoka met up with General Kota, who was speaking to a Rebel soldier who looked annoyed.

"Problems, General?" Ryan asked.

Kota sighed. "I'm glad you're here, Nimbus; I've just received word that someone was trying to do something to your ship."

"What?" Ryan scowled; it might not have been his legally, or for very long, but it was _his _ship, and no one was going to mess around with it!

Without asking for more information, Ryan slipped his helmet back on and marched to the hangar. Kota sighed again; Ahsoka looked at him curiously.

"Is something wrong, Master Kota? Besides the fact that someone was messing with Ryan's ship, I mean."

"I'm just tired of all the requests today," Kota admitted, "First, there was the request that I meet you and Nimbus at the hangar, so that I could confirm who you were, then there was the message that I had to pass on to you, now this…"

"Wait, someone sent me a message?" Ahsoka asked; she was fairly sure that she didn't know anyone in the Alliance besides Kota and Mothma, so who was it?

"He asked to meet you in the starboard hangar bay," Kota said, "He said he was very interested in your experiences with his father."

"I knew his father?" Ahsoka asked, "Who is he?"

"His name is Luke," Kota said, "Luke Skywalker."

Ahsoka stared at the blind Jedi; seconds later, she was sprinting in the direction of the hangar.

…

It was an annoyed Ryan that made his way back to his ship, where he found an equally-annoyed Rebel officer waiting, though it seemed that his irritation wasn't with the newly-announced mercenary.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ryan asked, "I heard someone was messing with my ship?"

The officer sighed. "Yeah, but she wasn't going to do any damage… at least, not on purpose."

"She?" Ryan echoed.

"Her name is Tanith Tsor," the officer explained, "She's a good engineer, from what I've heard, but she has a bad habit of taking apart a ship, then doing the same thing to another, but forgetting to put the first one back together. She was suspended from coming into the hangar for a month last time, when half of our X-Wings tried to take off, only to find that their engines were in pieces. The only reason that she hasn't been taken off engineering duty altogether is because she's good at what she does."

Ryan blinked at the rather lengthy summary. "Geez, do you have her kriffing file on you or something?"

The officer shook his head. "I'm in charge of security for this hangar; I know all the pests that come and go."

Ryan felt a twinge of irritation with the man for calling someone a pest, even if he'd never met this girl before; then again, if she really did disable so many ships, it made sense that he would be annoyed.

"Where is this girl?"

"She's right…" the officer pointed in the direction of two soldiers, but they were both male, "Fierfek! I told you two to keep an eye on her!"

While the officer went to berate his troops, Ryan looked back at his ship; there, just under the center engine, a figure could be seen on a hovering platform, and sparks could be seen flying everywhere.

"If she's damaged my ship…" Ryan muttered to himself, as he marched over; however, he stopped when he got close enough to hear the woman's voice.

"Come on, you beautiful ship, you," she said, oblivious to the fact that Ryan was now directly under her platform, "I promise, I just want to see what makes you tick; I'll even put you back together this time, I swear I won't forget!"

"Talking to a ship?" Ryan asked, torn between feeling amused and annoyed, "You know, that could be considered a sign of insanity."

The woman yelped at the sound of Ryan's voice, then let out a curse as her head hit the engine; a moment later, the platform lowered to the ground, and Ryan got a good look at this Tanith Tsor. She was a Mirialan, a species nearly identical to humans, save for having green skin, and often covering themselves in geometrically-repeating tattoos that symbolized their completion of tasks or skills.

Tanith would be considered beautiful by humans or any near-humans; taller than Ryan by several inches, and about the same age, her body was clearly feminine but well-toned, no doubt due to constantly carrying heavy equipment. Her skin was a medium-green, which made her chestnut-colored hair, which was tied up in a ponytail and ended at the base of her neck, stand out. On her face, which was beautiful even under the smears of engine grease, a small line of diamond-shaped, black tattoos stretched from below one eye, went across her nose, and ended under the other eye. Like her face, her orange jumpsuit was covered in streaks of grease as well.

Ryan took in all of this in only a few seconds; despite this woman's attractiveness, he was still annoyed with her for messing with his ship.

"Umm…" Tanith seemed nervous as she stood up, despite the fact that she had to look down to look Ryan in the eye. "I'msorryIdidn'tdoanythingtotheshipIswearIjustreallywantedtoseehowitworkedandpleasedon'tshootme!"

Ryan had to let his brain catch up for a moment; this girl's nervous speech was too fast. She must have been really afraid of his Mandalorian getup; either that, or she was afraid of getting caught doing something she shouldn't.

Deciding to play it safe, Ryan took off his helmet and smirked. "I was more afraid that you were trying to sabotage the _Desperate Measures_, not see how she worked."

"Never!" Tanith gasped, "I would never try to damage a ship like this! She's a work of art!"

Ryan glanced at his ship, taking note of the graceless construction and bulky weapons. "I'm not sure 'art' is the best way to describe her."

Tanith looked at the _Desperate Measures _again and reluctantly nodded. "Okay, maybe you're right; still, I swear I didn't damage her. Heck, I couldn't even get past the hull!"

"That might be difficult," Ryan said, "she's made of Mandalorian iron."

Tanith's blue eyes went wide. "I knew it had to be something as durable as that! None of my tools even scratched that hull! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself; I'm Tanith Tsor."

"Ryan Nimbus," Ryan said with a smile.

Ryan found himself warming up to Tanith's attitude, despite her unintentional attempt to damage his ship; she was cheery, curious and determined, if her attempt to cut through a near-indestructible metal was anything to go by. Despite her somewhat flighty behavior, she seemed like a good person; still, he needed to draw a line.

"Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I'm probably leaving soon, and I can't have my ship disassembled right now… or ever, now that I think about it."

Looking slightly abashed, Tanith nodded. "I'm sorry, it's just… whenever I see a ship that's unique or old, I see a story behind it, and I want to see that story for myself. I guess I go a little overboard sometimes."

Ryan looked back at the _Desperate Measures_. "Well, you didn't do any damage, so as long as you don't do it again, I can let bygones be bygones."

Tanith's eyes lit up. "Really? Thanks! I thought I was going to get in trouble aga…"

"ENGINEER TSOR!" a voice bellowed; both Tanith and Ryan turned to see the security officer marching up to them with a scowl. "I've warned you again and again: stay away from the ships in the hangar. Your duties are to the repair and refit operations of _Home One_, and nothing else! This is the last straw, Tsor; not only am I revoking your hangar access, I'll make sure that you'll never hold a spanner again!"

With a huff, the officer stalked away; Tanith, on the other hand, looked ready to burst into tears. Ryan felt a more than a twinge of pity; if what he knew about Mirialans was right, they devoted their lives to a craft; in Tanith's case, engineering. By taking that away, she would be culturally crippled, unless she left the Rebellion and signed on with another ship.

_Wait a minute, _Ryan thought, remembering his talk with Mon Mothma; he turned to speak to Tanith, but the Mirialan girl was already making her way to the exit, her head hanging in despair. Ryan hurried after her.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, causing her to turn around, "You're an engineer; where did you get your qualifications?"

Tanith didn't know where Ryan was going with this, but answered, "I got a degree in engineering at the Science Academy of Alderaan when I was sixteen, then spent a year getting field experience at the Kuati shipyards."

Ryan was impressed with all of that; getting a degree at sixteen, especially since Mirialans had a similar lifespan to humans, was nothing to sneeze at, and the Kuati shipyards were some of the best in the galaxy. She had quite the resume.

"Of course, it doesn't matter now," Tanith said, looking close to tears again, "I'm finished as an engineer."

"Maybe in the Rebellion," Ryan said, "but I'm currently recruiting a team that operates as a separate, if allied, entity; at the moment, I need an engineer. Are you interested?"

Tanith stared at him, openmouthed, then looked at the ship. "You mean I… the ship will…"

"You'll be serving on the _Desperate Measures _with the rest of the team," Ryan said, "but your service would come with some conditions."

"Anything!" Tanith said, beaming.

"First, you don't take apart the ship while we're on a mission, in hyperspace, or space in general," Ryan said, "Second, you'll be responsible for maintaining the ship and most of our equipment, though the tech expert may take over part of that job. Third, I expect the ship to be in one piece, so try not to take it apart too much."

"Sure!" Tanith said, before looking confused. "Umm, who is this tech expert?"

"No idea," Ryan said cheerfully, "but we'll be getting one assigned soon!"

"Hey!" Ryan and Tanith turned to see the security officer storming back to them, "I told you, Tsor, you need to get out of here; don't make me get someone to drag you out!"

"That won't be necessary," Ryan said, stepping between them, "Tanith here is no longer part of the Rebellion; she's now a member of my team. I can assure you, however, that she won't be taking ships apart; she'll be too busy keeping mine in tip-top shape. Oh, and can you send a message to Mon Mothma for me? Tell her I no longer need her to find me an engineer."

Ryan gestured for Tanith to follow him to the _Desperate Measures_; she did so, practically skipping along the way, leaving a flabbergasted officer behind them.

…

Ahsoka burst into the starboard hangar bay, not even breathing hard, despite running nearly half a kilometer to get there; she'd been drawing on the Force to sustain her energy and increase her speed. She hadn't done something like that in years, but it felt like only yesterday; it seemed the Force wanted her to resume the role of the Jedi.

Of course, once getting to the hangar, she mentally kicked herself; she had no idea who this Luke Skywalker was, and hadn't asked Kota what he looked like, not that a blind man could give such a description.

She was so annoyed with herself, she only barely noticed the blue astromech droid that wheeled itself around her… a very familiar blue astromech droid.

"Artoo?" she asked.

At the sound of her voice, R2-D2 spun his domed head around to look at the Togrutan; his processors took several seconds before he recognized her, and let out several joyful beeps. Ahsoka, meanwhile, ran forward and gave the droid an affectionate pat on the head.

"Hey, Artoo, it's so good to see you again! I didn't even know you were still functional!"

R2 beeped again, rocking side to side.

"It's great to see someone familiar, too; hey, I don't suppose that you know a Luke Skywalker, do you?"

R2 beeped an affirmative and began wheeling himself away, Ahsoka right behind him. After a couple of minutes, she had been led to an X-Wing, where a young man in a pilot's jumpsuit was making repairs to an engine. R2 beeped a greeting at him.

"Hey, Artoo, did you bring those tools I asked for?"

R2 beeped a negative.

"What do you mean, you had something more important to do? I'm trying to fix… this…" the young man had turned to see Ahsoka staring at him, then noticed her lightsabers. "Umm, hello; you must be Ahsoka Tano, right?"

It took a moment for Ahsoka to get a hold of herself; this boy had to be half her age, but he still looked so much like her old Master, Anakin. Blinking back tears, she nodded.

"That's right, I'm Ahsoka," she gave a slight bow in greeting, "and you must be Luke Skywalker, correct?"

Luke nodded excitedly; he had been informed that a student of his father was onboard, and now she was right in front of him. She could tell him so much about his father!

"So, how did you find me?" Luke asked, "Did you sense me through the Force?"

Ahsoka leaned against a nearby crate and smiled. "No, sorry; you have Artoo here to thank for me finding you."

"You know Artoo?" Luke asked.

"As a matter of fact, he was your father's personal astromech droid," Ahsoka said, "Artoo knew Anakin even longer than I did."

"Artoo, why didn't you tell me?" Luke asked; the little droid made a low _bwoop_, then followed with several beeps.

Translating the astromech's language, both Luke and Ahsoka learned that R2-D2 had suffered damage in the years after the Clone Wars; as a result, some of his memories were erased, including the ones of his former master. His memories of Ahsoka, however, had remained.

"Maybe that's why he likes you," Ahsoka commented to Luke, "You must be triggering some part of his memories, reminding him of your father. Your looks aren't the only thing, however; when I saw you working on your ship, I remembered all the times I saw Anakin tinkering away at his own fighter."

Luke, who had sat down during R2's explanation, sat up a little straighter; he had more in common with his father than he thought.

"Do you think you could tell me more about him?" he asked, "Ben never told me much."

"Who's Ben?" Ahsoka asked.

"Ben Kenobi," Luke told her, "but he used to go by Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Ahsoka blinked in shock. "We have a lot to discuss, don't we?"

…

"And here's the cockpit," Ryan said, finishing his guided tour of the _Desperate Measures_, while struggling not to laugh at the childlike wonder that Tanith was displaying.

"This is amazing!" she gushed, "Everything is designed to be so simple, yet effective; the only thing I could see that needs improving would be the sensor arrays, but other than that, this ship is on par with some of the best ships I've ever seen!"

Ryan nodded, happy that the ship was mostly satisfactory, though he made a mental note to do something about the sensors when he could. Before he could say anything to Tanith, a voice called out from the bottom of the ship's ramp.

"Excuse me, sir? Mon Mothma asked me to bring you these personnel files, sir."

"She already has people for me?" Ryan muttered to himself as he made his way to the ship's exit, Tanith right behind him.

Once out of the ship, Ryan accepted a datapad from a Rebel officer, which had a pair of files contained within.

"The people on those files will be here in a few minutes," the officer said before leaving.

"Hey, Tanith," Ryan said, "Why don't you get your personal effects while I meet the new guys?"

"Sure," she said, "just don't leave without me!"

Without waiting for an answer, she dashed off, leaving Ryan alone to read the files.

First up was his new tech expert, someone named Wek Vaas; he was only sixteen standard years old, but was considered a savant when it came to computers and stealth-related technology, even though he'd had no formal education in either field. He was also rated as a sniper; in the handful of engagements he'd been in, nearly every shot he made was a headshot, and even those that weren't were still lethal.

Ryan wondered why the Rebellion would give up such a valued soldier, until he saw the disciplinary record; Wek was constantly being reprimanded for slicing into Rebel computers, often looking into things that were considered top secret. The Alliance obviously considered him a security risk. It didn't seem malicious, though; if anything, Wek was just overly-inquisitive, or just hated not knowing things. Ryan could relate to that; if he had known more about his mission to Yavin, he'd have tried harder to get out of it.

The next file was for a man named Dirk Bitterman, aged thirty-five, making him the oldest member of the team so far. According to his file, he was a medic, and had received a degree at one of Corellia's finest medical institutions. He was also more than willing to go into combat, and was rated as 'proficient in hand-to-hand'. His record with patients was spotless; no one had died under his care.

_I'm already liking this guy, _Ryan thought, until he noticed a warning in the file.

The file noted that Bitterman was possibly a high-functioning sociopath, or if he wasn't, he was close to it. He used his medical expertise to systematically cut apart an entire squad of Stormtroopers with only a vibroblade. On top of that, he tended to amputate an injured limb and replace it with a cybernetic prosthetic if said injured limb belonged to a soldier he'd treated before.

In the file, he was quoted as saying, _"I'm not going to waste the bacta on someone who keeps getting injured. With the new limb, we can spare the bacta for someone who isn't stupid enough to get hurt twice."_

_Note to self: don't get injured often, _Ryan thought with an audible gulp, then realized something. _Hey, I asked for a heavy-weapons expert! I only have an engineer, tech expert and medic! Great, I'll have to see about recruiting someone else soon._

Distracted by his own complaints, Ryan didn't see the people in front of him until he heard a cough; looking up, he saw the people whose files he'd been reading.

Wek Vaas was a Nautolan, a humanoid amphibian with a mass of tentacles sprouting from the back of his head that reached down to the small of his back. His skin was a light blue, a common coloring for his species, and his large, black eyes reflected the light of the hangar. He was slightly shorter than Ryan, thinner too, and had a long hunting rifle slung across his back; attached to the belts on his weathered combat fatigues, several datapads and computer spikes hung. He placed a bag, probably containing his personal effects, on the ground, then looked at Ryan with a slight smile.

"Are you Ryan Nimbus?" he asked in a quiet voice, "I was ordered to meet you here."

"I am," Ryan said, then shook the kid's hand, "Welcome to the team."

"Is that why I'm here?" the imposing Dirk Bitterman asked, "To keep this team from getting killed?"

"Pretty much," Ryan said, looking up at the man.

Bitterman was huge, easily dwarfing both Ryan and Wek. He was human, with dark-brown skin and a shaved head; he wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his bulging muscles, as well as the threads of cybernetics crossing his arms, neck, and parts of his face. While he carried some medical equipment on his belt, it was offset by the large vibrosword that lay on top of the bag at the man's side.

Ryan glanced at said vibrosword nervously; the blade was almost a meter long, with a single edge that curved like a cleaver, but with a jagged serration.

Bitterman followed Ryan's gaze. "I see you've noticed Ol' Chopper."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "I hope you've never had to amputate with that thing."

"Only once," Bitterman admitted, "Since you haven't asked our names, I'd guess that you already know them?"

"I got your files not too long ago, Dirk Bitterman," Ryan said, "And I'm impressed with your skills; yours too, Wek Vaas."

"Thanks, sir!" Wek said, actually saluting.

"Please don't do that again," Ryan said, "I'm not an official officer of any kind, so you don't have to salute."

"Well, what rank should we address you by?" Wek asked, "You're commanding a squad, might I suggest Commander?"

_Chatty little guy, isn't he? _Ryan thought to himself. "Eh, Commander works, I guess."

He didn't add that he kind of liked the rank.

"If we're picking titles," Bitterman said, his arms crossed, "I don't like being called by my full last name. Call me Doc, or Bitters, if you have to."

"Sure thing," Ryan said, not wanting to start off by getting on the man's bad side, "Well, I should show you around the ship; she's called the _Desperate Measures_, by the way. Once Tanith comes back, we'll all get to know each other better as we start training."

"Training?" Wek echoed, "Sorry, Commander, but I've been in combat before; I know what I'm doing."

"So do I," Bitters said, "You're not dealing with rookies, kid."

Ryan shrugged. "Think of it as a way for me to assess what you need to improve on, as well as working as a team; besides, I've got equipment for you that might be unfamiliar, and I'll need you to get used to it as soon as possible."

Both Wek and Bitters looked at each other and shrugged; it made sense. The sound of running feet caught the attention of the three men; they turned to see Tanith headed towards them at a full sprint, a large bag slung over her shoulder, a datapad in one hand and a holocommunicator in her other.

"Ryan," she wheezed, as she slid to a stop, "Mon Mothma… told me… to give this… to…"

"Whoa, slow down," Ryan said, gently taking the datapad and communicator, then helping her sit down; had she been running through the whole ship? "Take a deep breath; I'll look over this now."

While leaving Tanith to get to know Wek and Bitters, the latter of whom was examining her with a scanner, Ryan walked a short distance away and activated the holocom. A small blue hologram of Mon Mothma appeared.

"Hello, Mr. Nimbus," she said, "I hope you are satisfied with your new teammates?"

"It's Commander now," Ryan said, "and I like 'em fine; just give me time to work out any kinks. Still, I never got a heavy-weapons expert; what's the deal?"

"Sadly, there is no time, _Commander_," Mothma said, "There is a situation on Nar Shaddaa; I need you and your team to head there immediately. The details are on the datapad; good luck, and may the Force be with you."

With that, the hologram disappeared; Ryan whirled around to face his new team. Wek was looking at him, curious, while Bitters was chatting with Tanith, who'd mostly recovered from her sprint.

"Okay, people," Ryan said in an authoritative voice, "training's going to have to be done on the way; we've got a mission, so let's go!"

The human, Nautolan and Mirialan looked at each other in surprise; they had just met, and now they were being thrown into combat? Still, they hurried onto the _Desperate Measures_; Bitters and Wek looked around curiously, while Ryan and Tanith rushed to the cockpit.

"How good are your piloting skills?" Ryan asked.

"I'm rated from starfighter all the way up to freighter," Tanith replied as she sat in the pilot's seat, "And this old girl isn't that hard to figure out."

Sure enough, Ryan felt the ship lift off with only a little shaking, but Tanith quickly adjusted to the new controls, and the flight out of the hangar was smoothly executed.

"Nicely done," Ryan commented, "now can you set a course for Nar Shaddaa?"

"Coordinates locked," Tanith said after a few moments, "and the hyperdrive is spun up; we're ready to go."

"All right," Ryan said, "punch it!"

The stars stretched, and then the team was away.

**And there's that! I know there was no action in this chapter, but it was meant to introduce some of the characters who will be making regular appearances throughout the story. Don't worry, the next chapter has a lot more action. However, there are some things that I need to address.**

**First, I really should have said that this story was a little bit AU. Ahsoka never met Luke, and Kota was added during "The Force Unleashed" games. By the way, the reason Ahsoka isn't with Ryan's team is that she's busy meeting Luke, which makes sense; it would be like meeting the son of a sibling you thought had died years ago.**

**And no, Ahsoka doesn't know that Anakin is Darth Vader. Like most people, she assumed that Anakin died during the Jedi Purge.**

**Second, the team: these are the first three members of Ryan's team, and I had fun creating them. I wanted them to be skilled, but have them not fit in with the other Rebels, for various reasons. Tanith and Wek were the product of my own brain, but I based a little bit of Bitterman (sorry, Bitters, as he likes to be called) off of Sweet from "Atlantis: The Lost Empire", which is underrated, in my opinion!**

**Third, Mon Mothma: I tried to do her character justice, but I can't find a lot of information on her as a person. Also, I have no idea if she was against Ahsoka in her trial; heck, in the episode of said trial, I didn't see her at all, but I wanted to create a bit of conflict. Mon Mothma isn't a bad person, but Ryan and his team need an enemy of sorts within the Rebellion.**

**As for that heavy-weapons specialist? That person will be showing up in the next chapter, and I hope you like the next OC! Oh, and a final note: I've got a much bigger workload with college, so don't expect updates quickly anymore. I'll try my best to keep up a reasonable release time, but I can't make any promises.**

**At last, we will reveal ourselves to the Muffins; at last, we will have our revenge.**


	4. Forged in Fire

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, BUT MY OC'S DO. IF SOMEONE TRIES TO STEAL THEM, A WOOKIE WILL RIP YOUR ARMS OUT OF YOUR SOCKETS.**

**Something I forgot to mention in my last chapter: Ryan is not Force-sensitive, and will never be a Jedi. The same goes for everyone on his team. A non-Jedi can kick just as much ass as a Jedi. If they couldn't, I think the Jedi would have survived the end of the Clone Wars.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 4

Forged in Fire

It was time for the first part of Ryan's plan to get his team unified; while in hyperspace en route to Nar Shaddaa, he gathered Tanith Tsor, Wek Vaas and Dirk 'Bitters' Bitterman together in the cargo hold. On the far end of the hold was one of the tables he'd used to transport his new equipment off of Yavin IV, turned on its side.

"So, what's with the table?" Wek asked, his head perpetually tilted in curiosity; the young Nautolan seemed to view everything like that.

"Well, I don't have a target range," Ryan explained, "so this will have to do for now."

"Target range?" Wek asked, "I don't need to practice my aim."

"Me neither," Bitters added in his deep voice, "I've been practicing since I was a kid."

"So that was, what, near the creation of the Old Republic?" Wek asked sarcastically, earning himself a scowl from Bitters.

"Anyway," Ryan said, doing his best to distract the near-psychotic medic, "since we'll be going into hostile situations—quite often, I might add—we'll need the best gear available. Before I give you your new guns, I want to give you your armor."

"Like yours?" Tanith asked, looking up and down at Ryan's armored form; when she found that Ryan was attractive in said armor, she blushed and quickly looked away.

"Yeah, like mine," Ryan said, noticing her reaction but too caught up in his presentation to know why, "There are four more suits of Mandalorian armor in the room on the port side; find one that fits you and put it on. Meet back here in twenty minutes!"

The three dashed off to don the armor; Wek returned first, allowing Ryan to see that he had made several slight adjustments to his armor.

The young Nautolan had removed the shoulder pads of his suit, allowing slightly more flexibility in his arms; he was also not wearing the helmet but, then again, it wasn't built with his species in mind. Ryan would have to help work around that later. Wek had also taken the belts of computer tech off of his old outfit and wrapped them around his armor, and had attached a strange disk-like device to the side of his hip.

"What's that?" Ryan asked, pointing to the device in question.

Wek grinned. "Just something I whipped up in my spare time."

He then tapped on the device and, to Ryan's shock, vanished! It took Ryan a moment, but then he realized what Wek had said; he had _made_ his own personal cloaking-generator! That kind of technology had been lost for generations, but Wek had made one 'in his spare time'? It seemed that his file's claim of him being a technological savant was well-founded.

There was a brief hum, and then Wek reappeared, a smug smile on his face.

"How long can you sustain the cloak?" Ryan asked, his mind awhirl with tactical possibilities, "And can you make more of these?"

"I can stay invisible for a few minutes before the generator goes into recharge," Wek admitted, the smugness gone now, "And any movement faster than, say, a fast walk, will break the cloak, as will using my weapon. As for making more… okay, it took a while to find the components, but I'll see about getting the whole team outfitted with them if I can."

"Make it a priority," Ryan said, then changed the subject, "Now, about your helmet…"

"Yeah, I don't think Nautolans were in mind when it was built," Wek interrupted, gesturing to his head-tentacles.

"Still, you need some sort of HUD to keep up," Ryan said, "We'll all have one."

Wek tapped his chin in thought, before taking his unusable helmet and flipping it upside-down. "Maybe I can take the tech out and reconfigure it for myself…"

Seeing that Wek had gone into 'tech-geek' mode, Ryan left him alone, just in time to see the other two members of the team arrive. Bitters had left his armor unchanged, though he had put his equipment for field-medicine into several large pouches on his belt, and had attached his vibrosword 'Ol' Chopper' to his back, similar to what Ryan had done with his _beskad_.

Tanith had also decided to keep her armor the same, though Ryan noticed how the suit hugged her form perfectly; thankfully, Ryan was wearing his own helmet, so no one saw his blush. Attached to Tanith's belt were several tools and a scanner, presumably for any engineering work that needed to be done in the field.

"Okay, glad you're all ready," Ryan said, clapping his hands together, "Because now, you get some new guns."

Bitters perked up a bit, and even Wek managed to tear himself away from the device he was building to smile. Tanith was the only one who seemed apprehensive.

"Something wrong?" Ryan asked.

"I'm… not that good a shot," Tanith admitted, "and I've never been in combat, either."

"Well, that's what the training is for," Ryan assured her, "but just so I know where to start, what was your marksmanship level?" Tanith mumbled something, so Ryan asked, "What was that?"

"I was rated as 'passable'," she admitted shamefully, "Which means that I can't hit the broad side of a Star Destroyer… from the inside."

Everyone winced; that was pretty bad.

"Well, what range were you shooting at?" Ryan asked, hoping that she had at least some skill in combat.

"Fifty meters," Tanith told him.

"Did you ever try anything closer than that?"

"No, fifty meters was the standard."

"Wait here," Ryan said, an idea springing to mind as he headed for the armory.

He returned several minutes later with a rectangular blaster, about half a meter long, the edges of the barrel widening at the end, like a primitive blunderbuss.

"Try this scattergun," Ryan said, handing the weapon to her, "It's only got a range of about ten meters, and all you really have to do is aim in the general area of the target."

Tentatively, the Mirialan took the weapon and aimed at the table; the resulting shot peppered the target with carbon-scoring and knocked Tanith onto her rear. Bitters and Wek snickered, while Ryan had to stifle his own chuckle.

"Okay, let's try this again," Ryan said, helping her to her feet, "Only this time, I want you to lean into the shot."

After helping her brace herself, Ryan stepped back to let her try again; this time, Tanith's shot only knocked the table back, not her.

"That's just the first type of fire," Ryan said, "Try holding down the trigger for a few seconds."

Tanith obliged; this time, after charging up the shot, the scattergun's discharge flipped the table into the air, a large dent clearly visible.

"Nice," Ryan complimented, "you handled that well. I suggest you use that as your primary; take these as backups."

He presented her with a _beskar _dagger, just like his, and a heavy blaster pistol, complete with holster.

"Hopefully, we'll have more time to work on your aim with the pistol after this mission," he said, before turning to Bitters, "And what do you like to use? Besides that monster of a sword, I mean."

"I'm Corellian," the big man replied, "I like blaster pistols."

Ryan disappeared once again, coming back with a pair of blasters, just like the ones he and Tanith had.

"Okay, let's see what you can do with these."

Bitters took the blasters, stepped back as far as he could, and unleashed a fusillade of fire; even at that distance, he was able to create a 'smiley-face' on the table. Ryan whistled in appreciation.

"Nice work," Ryan said, before handing him a _beskar _dagger, "here's something else, in case Ol' Chopper isn't around."

Bitters holstered his pistols, then accepted the dagger with a nod.

"Now then," Ryan said, "all that's left is you, Wek, so… what the kriffing hell are you wearing!?"

Tanith and Bitters turned to see what Ryan was referring to; on Wek's face was a strange mask over his mouth, nose and chin, and a green, holographic visor was mounted over his right eye.

"What?" he asked, his voice now possessing a metallic edge to it, "Is there something wrong?"

"Kid, it's been about fifteen minutes," Bitters said, "and you already made that?"

"It wasn't too hard," Wek explained modestly, "the filtering system was already in place, I just had to remove it. The visor was a little harder, but I was able to remove the HUD's software and reconfigure it to a smaller frame. I didn't need that many parts from the helmet itself in order to make it, so it wouldn't be impossible to use this as an extra for any of you."

Ryan glanced at the cannibalized helmet, then back at Wek, more than a little impressed with the Nautolan's technological savvy.

"Okay…" Ryan shook his head before continuing, "Can I see your rifle?"

Wek handed over his hunting rifle; Ryan spent a minute looking it over, then looked through the scope.

"This thing is a piece of junk," he finally announced.

"Hey, it's worked well so far!" Wek protested, even though he sounded unsure.

"Don't get me wrong, it could do its job," Ryan said, "but only if that job was shooting Womp Rats. To be honest, I'd never take something like this into battle, it just… well, it sucks, let's leave it at that."

Wek looked down, embarrassed; thus, he missed Ryan go back into the armory. When he looked back up, Ryan had returned with a slim, matte-black rifle; the scope was collapsible, as was the stock and bipod. What seemed odd to Wek was the fact that while the end of the barrel was large, the barrel itself was only a couple of inches long, and seemed unsuited for a sniper rifle.

Ryan caught Wek's confusion and smiled. "Don't worry, it _is _a sniper rifle, just heavily modified. I'm not sure what the original model was like, but it was probably a good rifle even before said mods." With that, he pressed a button on the side; the barrel extended, nearly doubling the length of the rifle. "It's got two versions; in close-quarters, it can be used as a carbine, and you can still use the scope. In the sniper-mode, it has two types of fire; go ahead, give it a try."

Ryan handed the rifle over to Wek, who took aim at the table through the scope; trying the first setting, he found he could fire medium-strength blaster bolts at a semi-automatic rate. The second fire mode, however, shot a beam of energy so strong that it passed clean through the durasteel table and left carbon-scoring on the hull. Oddly enough, the shots made less noise than they should have; perhaps there was a built-in sound-suppressing system.

Everyone stared at the rifle in awe, Wek included; Ryan would later swear that he saw the Nautolan salivating a little.

"So, what do you think?" Ryan asked.

Wek gave a wide grin. "Like a dream, Commander; every shot went where I wanted it to go, and I felt almost no recoil. Please tell me I get to keep it!"

"As long as you're a member of the team, sure," Ryan said, before handing him a blaster pistol and a dagger, "Now that we all have our weapons, it's time for the armor; what have you guys got hidden away?"

It turned out that each suit of armor had the same things: a flamethrower, mini-rocket launcher and a hidden blade. Like Ryan, there was no fuel for the flamethrowers and no rockets, but Bitters suggested that they could find a lot of what they needed on Nar Shaddaa, so they could go shopping after they got paid for their mission.

"Speaking of which," the medic said, "you haven't told us what this mission that Mon Mothma gave us is."

"Oh, right," Ryan pulled out the datapad and summarized it for the team, "Well, the Alliance had a deal with a businessman on Nar Shaddaa, one Zo D'noh. His company, Zo Mechanics, made droids; after the Clone Wars, the droid-making business took a hit, and D'noh's company nearly went bankrupt. He's been able to rebuild over the years, thanks in no small part to the Rebellion; he's been selling quite a few labor- and medical-droids.

"Recently, however, the Alliance wanted to make a bulk order of security droids, no doubt in order to free up more manpower. D'noh was going to oblige, but on one condition: the Rebellion would give him extra security for his daughter, seventeen-year-old Sera. Unfortunately, it seems that the security wasn't tight enough; six hours ago, Sera was kidnapped by some gang, and her bodyguards were killed. She's being held for ransom; our job is to ensure that the transaction is performed smoothly, and keep the girl safe."

"What about the deal to get the droids?" Wek asked; it had only been a short while since leaving the Rebellion, and he still had loyalty to the organization, if not its leadership.

"As far as I know, the deal is still on, provided that Sera is unharmed," Ryan told them all, "and if it isn't, well, then it's Mon Mothma's problem."

The teammates nodded, not particularly fond of that woman at the moment; she had been quick to get them thrown out of the Rebellion, after all. Each of them was more grateful to Ryan; he had read their files and seen why they weren't well-liked, and had still taken them in without a second thought. Even the cynical Bitters was determined to show Ryan that his trust was not misplaced.

…

**Nar Shaddaa, Several Hours Later**

The _Desperate Measures _smoothly exited hyperspace, allowing the team to get a good view of the sprawling moon from the cockpit's viewports. Privately, Ryan was amazed; he had grown up on the agricultural world of Dantooine, and even when he had been serving in the Empire, he'd never seen so many lights, so many ships.

Of course, it was more than that reason that he was nervous; Nar Shaddaa, a moon covered in pollution, drugs and violence, had a well-deserved reputation for danger. One wrong step, and you were filled with drugs, blaster bolts or both.

"Wek," Ryan addressed the Nautolan, who was working on a computer terminal, "Is there an Imperial presence here?"

"Officially?" Wek said, then shook his head, "No; there was a secret shipyard that made TIE fighters, but that was destroyed a couple of years ago, shortly before the creation of the Rebellion. Details are kind of sketchy, but there was a rumor that it was a faction within the Empire making a power-play. General Kota was supposedly there; you could ask him later."

"Okay, the lack of Imperials is definitely a plus," Ryan said, checking the power packs of his blasters, "Now then, our job is to make sure no one on our side gets killed; that means we've gotta make sure that the other guys don't try to kill us."

"How are we going to do that?" Tanith asked, nervously checking her scattergun.

"If things go right, then all we have to do is stand there and look menacing," Ryan told her.

"And if things don't go right?"

"I gave you guys those weapons for a reason."

With his teammates going through final checks on their equipment, Ryan was left to pilot the ship to the designated coordinates; Bitters looked over his shoulder to see where they were going and nodded appreciatively.

"We're headed to the Corellian Sector," he said, "That's one of the safest areas to be in, relatively speaking."

"How so?" Ryan asked.

"The gangsters there aren't well-equipped, and they tend to be a bunch of spice-addicted idiots who are more likely to shoot themselves than you."

"That's what you consider safe?" Tanith asked him incredulously.

Bitters shrugged. "Safe for Nar Shaddaa, anyway."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Ryan brought the ship closer to the docking bay. Finally, Wek tapped Ryan on the shoulder.

"So, do we actually have a plan besides 'look menacing'?"

"Actually, that's pretty close to it, except for you," Ryan said, "I'm not going to take this thing at face value; once we're at the meeting point, I want you to cloak and find some elevation. If I don't like how things are going, I'll send you a beep on your HUD; if you see someone trying to line up a shot, take him out first, and we'll get the hostage out of there."

The others nodded; the plan made sense, and Ryan was clearly not taking chances, either with their lives, or the hostage.

Once the _Desperate Measures _landed, the team marched out, weapons holstered, but hands near them, just in case. Ryan noted that Tanith was a little sloppy in her footing, and she was nowhere near available cover; he had to remind himself that this was her first combat mission, and that he would have to drill in some instinctive maneuvers when he got the chance. Hopefully, she wouldn't get killed, so that he could find that chance. He could tell that Tanith was wondering why she was being taken on the mission at all; what Ryan didn't say was that he was still afraid that she might try to take apart the ship if she was left alone with it.

Since she was now armed, Ryan vowed to never tell her that.

After securing the ship, Ryan led the team to the rendezvous point, noting every spot a potential ambush could come from; he knew that D'noh owned this spaceport, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

"Hey, Ryan," Tanith said, "where'd you learn all this military stuff? If I didn't see you with all those weapons, I wouldn't have thought you were a soldier."

Deciding to take that as a compliment, Ryan said, "I'm ex-Imperial Infantry, actually."

This made all three of his teammates do a double-take; no one had told them that.

"You were an Imperial?" Tanith asked, then smirked under her helmet, "Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?"

"Funny," Ryan deadpanned.

"When did you leave them?" Wek asked.

"This morning, actually."

"… That would have been nice to know earlier," Bitters commented.

"Well, now you know," Ryan said sharply, "now can we _please _stop making a big deal out of this so we can get on with the mission?"

"Hey, you're the one making a big deal out of this, not us," Tanith said.

Ryan sighed; choosing the people that the Rebellion had had issues with to be his teammates was starting to look less appealing. Was this how officers in the Empire had felt when they had talked to him?

Thankfully for him, they reached the rendezvous point, and everyone took the cue to stay as quiet and professional as possible. Seconds after they arrived, they were met by a portly, middle-aged human in a business suit, accompanied by a pair of bulky droids holding heavy repeating blasters.

"Are you the team that was sent as extra security?" the man asked, sweat dripping from his brow.

"We are," Ryan said, "Are you Zo D'noh?"

"I am," D'noh replied, "and while I thank the Alliance for its efforts, my daughter was kidnapped under your people's watch; as such, I will be withdrawing all further dealings after today."

"If it makes any difference, we're not Alliance personnel," Ryan told him, "so your dealings really aren't our concern. However, I can assure you that we will do all we can to get your daughter back safely."

D'noh smiled nervously as he glanced at his chronometer. "Thank you for the sentiment, but I believe it is time for you to—what is it that some people say?—'put your money where your mouth is'?"

Behind his helmet, Ryan rolled his eyes. "Of course, sir, but I have to ask: why are you personally coming with us to deliver the ransom? It seems very risky."

"That was one of the conditions of the ransom," D'noh explained, "They would only release Sera for the ransom if I was personally there to oversee it."

"With all respect, sir, that seems far too suspicious," Ryan said, "It's almost certainly a trap."

"I am aware," D'noh said, slightly condescending, "I have dealt in business dealings far more cutthroat than this. This is why I prefer droids to people; it's far easier to trust a droid. It's also why I called for outside help on this; if these hooligans are going to deceive me, I'll need people with the same capability for deception on my side."

"Thanks, I think," Ryan said, as D'noh led them to a waiting transport, which took them to the edge of the Corellian Sector.

"Sir, may I ask a question?" Wek asked along the way.

"Certainly."

"What can you tell us about the kidnappers? Anything unusual about them, or their equipment? If things go bad, we may need to know these things."

Inwardly, Ryan applauded Wek's pursuit of information; if it could give them an edge, Ryan wanted it.

"The only information I can give you is that they were dressed as common street thugs. The only unusual thing about them was that they were organized. I only noticed because they seemed much more like my droids than the rabble."

"Why is that unusual?" Ryan cut in, a little disturbed by the way the man kept directing the conversation towards droids.

This time, Bitters answered. "Like I said, the few gangs that are in this sector are more likely to shoot themselves than you. If these guys were disciplined enough to take down a team of soldiers, this could get ugly."

Personally, Ryan agreed, but he didn't say anything out loud for two reasons. First, he didn't want to spook D'noh, who looked nervous enough already; second, his own team might not trust him yet, especially after telling them that, until yesterday, he'd been their enemy. He didn't want to make the situation worse.

When their transport landed, Ryan was the first one out, his carbine drawn and raised; seeing no threats in the area, he waved his hand forward for the rest of the team to follow.

"He just signaled us to move up," he heard Wek say to Tanith.

"I figured that out on my own, thanks!" Tanith hissed back.

"Stow the chatter, you two," Ryan said sternly, "You can be snarky when the mission is over."

To Ryan's pleasant surprise, they shut up and took cover, though Tanith was a bit less graceful than the rest of them.

The area that they had landed in was a labyrinth of bridges and dilapidated buildings. The latter made sense; this was very close to the sectors of Nar Shaddaa that even soldiers feared to enter.

The rest of the trip to the meeting point was uneventful, but Ryan and his team kept their weapons ready, just in case. When they were only a few minutes away from their destination, however, Ryan called for a halt.

"Is something wrong?" D'noh looked around worriedly, "Do you see something dangerous?"

"No," Ryan answered, much to D'noh's relief, "but I see something that could give us an advantage. Wek, see that building?"

Wek followed Ryan's pointing finger to a burnt-out apartment complex. "Yes, what about it?"

"It's got line of sight to the target area," Ryan explained, "I want you to get in there, cloak and provide overwatch; when we arrive, I want you ready to fire."

"Understood," Wek said, then jogged off.

"Will he be okay?" Tanith asked.

"As long as he doesn't do something to get himself killed, he should be fine," Ryan assured her. It was true; Wek was going into the safest position in this scenario. It was everyone else that Ryan was more worried for.

Once Wek signaled that he was in position, Ryan led everyone else to the meeting point. Right on time, he could see two groups of humans, organized into ten-man squads. They tried to hide it, but Ryan could see that their movements were textbook Imperial maneuvers, and Ryan would know; he'd had the same moves drilled into him during Stormtrooper training. This set off alarms in Ryan's head, and that was before he took into account that, not counting D'noh's two droids, he and his team were outnumbered five-to-one.

Along the way, Ryan called Wek on the team's comm-frequency.

"Wek, do you see anything out of the ordinary?"

"_Besides the fact that those gangsters are way too organized to be gangsters?" _Wek replied.

"Forget about them for a second. Look at the surroundings, the air traffic; is there anything that stands out? If you see something, tell me; I don't care if it's the smallest thing."

"_I'll keep you posted, Commander."_

"Is something wrong?" Tanith asked, also using the team's comm-unit.

"I'm not sure," Ryan admitted, "I've just got a bad feeling about this."

Once they were close enough to clearly see each other, both groups stopped; one of the 'gangsters' stepped forward and roughly pushed a young girl forward.

"Here's your daughter, old man," he shouted, "now give us the money!"

D'noh stepped forward, a large case in his hands, but Ryan stopped him.

"The conditions were that you showed up," Ryan said, "was there anything that said that you had to be the one to deliver the ransom?"

D'noh looked away for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing like that was stated, no."

"Okay, then give me the ransom and I'll deliver it; if there's a problem, well, I'm wearing armor."

Wordlessly, D'noh handed over the case, then allowed one of his droids to usher him into cover; Ryan picked up the case and slowly walked towards the kidnappers, silently berating himself for throwing himself into danger like this, without even thinking about it. At the same time, one of them pushed the girl, presumably Sera, forward; now that he was close enough, Ryan could see that she had a blindfold on. As they got closer together, Ryan was contacted by Wek.

"_Commander, I've spotted something weird."_

_Figures, _Ryan thought, but out loud he said, "What have you got?"

"_I've seen this same garbage transport fly by five times now; on top of that, it's flying about five meters above everyone else in the lane."_

"How do you know it's the same transport?" Ryan asked.

"_It has a picture of a Twi'lek in a… lewd position… spray-painted on."_

_Of course the teenager would notice something like that, _Ryan thought, though he was still alarmed. Glancing up with only his eyes, he managed to catch sight of the transport in question; he didn't see anything odd about it, but still…

"Wek, if that ship becomes a threat, use the high-powered setting on your rifle and take out the engines; once you do that, start firing on our not-gangster friends here."

"_Roger that."_

With that taken care of, Ryan met up with Sera halfway between the two groups; the man behind her kept her just out of Ryan's reach.

"Put down the case," the man growled, "and I'll let this thing go at the same time."

Ryan nodded, though he was confused by what the man meant by 'that thing'; he had no time to go deeper into that, however, because he was contacted by Bitters over the comm-system.

"_Ryan, I've been using my helmet's zoom function to get a look at the hostage. I don't think she was treated well; the way she's walking is too stiff. I think they kept her locked up in an enclosed space; no human should be like that, otherwise."_

Ryan took a look at Sera; she seemed fine to him. She was a petite young girl, even shorter than Wek, with honey-blond hair cut into a stylish bob; her dress, which was a stylish, light-green affair, had a few small tears in it and her face was a little dirty, but otherwise, she looked unharmed.

"It's okay, Miss," Ryan said calmly, "I'm going to take you home now."

Slowly, Ryan placed the case on the ground, then gently led Sera by the arm back to her father; along the way, he removed her blindfold. She looked up at him, her face set in a neutral expression; Ryan thought she was just trying to be brave, but then he noticed her eyes. The pupils were red, and they were glowing; Ryan was going to think that she had cybernetic eyes, but then he felt a bump on her wrist. Sera noticed that he was looking at said wrist and, at the unanswered question, pulled her sleeve back enough to show a silvery knob attached there.

_That's a restraining bolt, _Ryan realized, _but only droids have those…_

Then it hit him: the red eyes, the restraining bolt, D'noh's allusions to liking droids more than people… Sera wasn't D'noh's daughter; she was a droid who had been made to look like a human!

"What are you?" he whispered.

"Zo D'noh created me to be his daughter," Sera said in an even, thought slightly synthesized, tone, "Officially, my designation is S3-R4, though I am called Sera."

"No offense," Ryan said, "but making a droid just so that it could be his child is just… creepy."

"I have mentioned to him in the past that his obsession with droids was unhealthy," Sera said, "and that was what led to the restraining bolt."

"I'm going to have to talk to him about this…" Ryan said, when they were only a few meters away from D'noh and Ryan's team.

Against common sense and the orders of both Tanith and Bitters, the businessman stepped out of cover and began running towards his 'daughter', his arms held out to embrace her. Everyone froze, however, when a bolt of energy flew down, striking D'noh between the eyes; he was dead before he even hit the ground.

"_Fierfek!" _Wek swore over the comms, _"I see the shooter, she's on the garbage transport; I'm taking the shot!"_

A second later, a powerful bolt of energy hit the transport's engines, piercing them and hitting something vital; billowing smoke, the transport crashed twenty meters from Ryan's position, killing a handful of the kidnappers, where he saw a lithe figure stumble out of the wreckage and start running.

"Wek, focus on the enemy squads!" Ryan yelled over the comms as he chased after the enemy sniper, "Bitters, Tanith: take D'noh's droids and engage the enemy! I'm going after that assassin!"

The fight was on.

…

When Ryan left, Wek began calling out enemy positions, even as he killed three men before they came within range of the rest of the team. Bitters drew both of his pistols and put them on their burst settings; he then unleashed waves of blaster-fire, killing another two enemies before the rest got into cover.

"_Hey, Bitters!" _Wek called out over the comms, _"Getting sloppy in your old age?"_

"I'm not that old!" Bitters yelled back, even as he shot another attacker in the chest, "And even if I was, that just means I'm wiser than you, kid!"

Tanith stayed behind cover next to Sera; she was out of the effective range of her scattergun; for now, she had to wait until the enemy got closer to her position. Though she didn't want to admit it, she was scared. She'd never been in combat before, and had no idea how terrifying it was; she could hardly breathe.

D'noh's droids were doing a good job of keeping the enemy's heads down, each laying down suppressive fire with their repeating blasters; even so, one of them was destroyed by a lucky shot and collapsed, its weapon clattering to the ground.

"I can help," Sera said, her tone still neutral, despite having to raise the volume to be heard over the sound of combat.

"How?" Tanith asked, finally working up the courage to peek out of cover and fire off a shot at an enemy that got too close; she was still out of range, so the shot missed, but it was enough to send the man hurrying back into cover.

"I can use that weapon," Sera said, pointing at the fallen repeating blaster, "But I cannot do so until this restraining bolt is removed."

Tanith glanced down at Sera's wrist; Ryan had kept his comms on when he spoke to Sera, so the entire team knew that she was a droid, but it was still strange. Tanith had never heard of a droid that looked so much like an organic being. She quickly shook her head, trying to stop her mind from going into 'engineer-mode'.

Hoping that Sera wasn't lying to her, she pulled a spanner from her belt and used it to pop off the restraining bolt. Sera then leaned over and effortlessly picked up the repeating blaster; she lifted a weapon that even a Wookie would have found heavy as if it were a pistol!

Sera moved from cover to cover, keeping up a continuous stream of fire; unlike D'noh's droids, the last of which fell to a barrage of blaster bolts, Sera used the terrain to her advantage, avoiding incoming fire and returning it with interest.

Thanks to her pinning the enemy down, allowing Wek to pick them off, the foe's numbers were cut down to a mere four. However, their luck changed when Sera's weapon overheated; when that happened, the remaining enemies charged forward. Sera ducked behind cover, weaponless, while Bitters was able to kill two of them with precise bursts; Wek was able to kill a third with a shot that neatly decapitated the man, but the fourth was right on top of them!

Tanith almost froze; despite knowing how good her armor was, she thought she was going to be killed.

_I don't want to die, _she thought, raising her scattergun, _I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_

Her scattergun fired, just as the last man was only a meter away from her; the shot took him in the chest, almost tearing him in half. Tanith stared as the body hit the ground; she had just taken a life.

_I guess I'm a soldier now._

…

Ryan sprinted after the assassin, determined to stop her; at first, the assassin had a decent lead on him, but the injuries she'd sustained in the crash were starting to catch up to her. Ryan could see drops of blood on the ground during his pursuit.

He tried to get a shot off with his carbine, but even though the weapon was capable of being used one-handed, it was still too bulky to do so while running. After mag-locking the carbine to his thigh, he drew his pistol; it was still difficult to aim, but the targeting system built into his HUD helped. Every time he fired, he got closer and closer to hitting; if he could only steady his arm for a second…

Finally, as the assassin ran down a ramp, Ryan saw his chance; falling to his knees, he slid down the ramp in pursuit, lined up a shot and fired, catching the woman in the shoulder. She spun around and hit the floor; Ryan got to his feet, holstered his pistol and walked up to see the results of his handiwork. It was a trick, however; the assassin wasn't as badly hurt as Ryan had thought, and received a kick to his chin for his troubles.

Thankfully, his helmet kept him from getting hurt, and he finally got a good look at the woman he was chasing: the assassin had a slim build and short, black hair. While she was attractive, there was nothing about her that really stood out, either.

_Perfect for an assassin, _Ryan thought, then said out loud, "Who are you?"

"Cipher Twelve," the woman said emotionlessly, "Imperial Intelligence."

This made Ryan worried; agents from Intelligence were some of the most dangerous people in the Empire, aside from the Emperor's elite guards and Darth Vader. While Ryan had had the capability to get into Intelligence, he'd never actually joined; this woman, on the other hand, not only had the skills, but also the advanced training.

The assassin raised her arms in a fighting stance; she had apparently decided not to run anymore. Ryan understood that at this range, she'd be on him before he could draw any of his weapons; he'd have to do this the hard way.

"Okay, you kriffing bitch," Ryan snarled, "let's dance!"

Ryan made the first move, striking with a right hook, which Cipher Twelve dodged, then countered with a spinning kick. The blow caught Ryan in the side, but his armor absorbed the blow, and probably bruised the Cipher's foot.

Still, Ryan was able to figure out that while Cipher Twelve was faster and more skilled, she didn't have anything that could get past his armor; on top of that, she was injured, and that was slowing her down. If Ryan was smart, he could outlast her.

Since he couldn't match her speed, Ryan fought defensively, holding up his arms, only blocking, waiting for an opportunity. Cipher Twelve, on the other hand, was starting to get more desperate in her attacks, her blows slowly turning from graceful, pinpoint strikes, and into wild flails. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Ryan saw his chance; when Cipher Twelve backed up, she stumbled, if only for a second, but it was enough for Ryan to charge forward and slam her into a wall. He slowly began pushing his right fist towards her throat; Cipher Twelve desperately tried to force him away, but Ryan had more energy and more mass.

With his knuckles resting against her throat, Ryan said, "You're a pain in the neck, you know that?"

With a slight twist of his wrist, the hidden blade popped out from his gauntlet, tearing through the Cipher's carotid artery; blood poured forth, and the agent was dead within seconds.

After taking a few deep breaths, Ryan picked up the Cipher's body and hurled it off the edge of the building, where it plunged into the depths of Nar Shaddaa; no one would find the remains there.

Still, it was worrisome that Imperial Intelligence was behind this; obviously, it had been a ploy to get D'noh out into the open, where he could be killed, preventing the Rebellion from getting the droids. Ryan wasn't too concerned with the disguised Stormtroopers, though; rumor was that Intelligence would often commandeer Imperial troops as a distraction for their objective, or as extra security. Even for an Intelligence agent, you could never have too much security in Nar Shaddaa.

_Oh well, it's over now._

After wiping off some of the blood from his gauntlets, Ryan made his way back to his team.

…

Ryan found Wek and Bitters looking over the bodies of the enemy squads, they were piling up the weapons, ammunition and anything else that seemed useful. Tanith was trembling as she sat next to Sera, who was toting a heavy repeating blaster.

"Everything all right over here?" Ryan asked as he approached.

"No injuries on our side," Bitters replied, "but Tanith might be in shock."

"Why's that?" Ryan wanted to know.

"She made her first kill," Wek said quietly.

Ryan winced; while he himself had made his first kills earlier on Yavin, he had been able to get over it fairly quickly. For him, it had been a matter of survival; if he hadn't killed Raff and his platoon, they would have killed him. Ryan would just have to get Tanith to feel the same way.

"Keep up what you're doing," he said, "I'll take care of Tanith."

The other two men nodded, while Ryan walked up to the two women; well, one woman and a droid that looked like a woman.

"Hey, Sera," Ryan said, "can you give us a minute?"

"Yes," the droid said, "I must tend to Zo D'noh's remains."

When Sera was gone, Ryan sat down next to Tanith. "I heard what happened."

Tanith flinched, but didn't say anything.

"Killing someone is hard," Ryan continued, "believe me, I know. But you've got to remember something: if you _don't_ kill them, they are going to kill _you_."

"I know, I… I think I'm going to be sick…" Tanith ripped off her helmet and ran to the railing and vomited over it; a few seconds later, after taking a deep breath, she wiped her mouth on her gauntlet and returned to her seat next to Ryan, who handed back her helmet.

"Feel better?" Ryan asked.

Tanith nodded. "I think so. I remember, during the fight, thinking that I didn't want to die; that's why I shot him."

"I don't know if it helps," Ryan said, "but you can think of it like this: we're a team; if you don't kill the enemy, not only will they kill you, but then they'll move on to the rest of us. We need to watch each other's backs, or we won't last long."

"But you ran off to fight that assassin by yourself," Tanith pointed out.

"It wasn't as risky as you think," Ryan assured her, "She was injured and weaponless; if she hadn't told me she was Imperial Intelligence, I might have even let her live."

"Is Intelligence really that good?" Tanith asked.

"Yes," Ryan said, "I've only seen an Intelligence agent once, and that guy nearly made an Admiral wet himself."

Tanith shuddered. "Why would you fight someone like that at all?"

"Like I said, she was injured and weaponless, while I was fine, and had armor. She couldn't do much against me, but I couldn't let her go tell her bosses about us; we can't afford to have Imperial Intelligence know who we are."

Ryan stood up and held out his hand. "You ready to get moving now?"

Tanith smiled, put on her helmet, and took Ryan's hand, letting him help her to her feet.

"Hey, guys!" Ryan called out to Wek and Bitters, "Find anything good?"

"Nothing," Bitters said back, "just a bunch of E-11's and some standard equipment."

"That Cipher must have commandeered these squads of Stormtroopers as the muscle," Ryan mused, "I've heard of that happening before."

"Speaking of that Cipher," Bitters said, "I can't believe you."

"What did I do?"

"You said, and I quote, 'you're a pain in the neck'; from the arterial blood on your gauntlet, I'd say you stabbed her in the throat."

"How did you know I said that?" Ryan asked, embarrassed that his team knew about his pun.

"You left your comms on," Wek said, smiling behind his mask as Ryan groaned.

"It's my first time using this system, so sue me," Ryan protested.

"Just don't do it again," Bitters said in an amused tone, his arms crossed.

They all shared a brief laugh, even Ryan. When it was over, however, Ryan acted more professionally.

"Okay, everyone, enough of that; let's see what we need to do, now that D'noh's dead."

Their mood more somber, the team marched back to Sera, who had been joined by a squad of D'noh's droids. Two of them were lifting the corpse of D'noh onto a stretcher, while the others moved past Ryan's team.

"Those droids will gather up the Imperial weapons and place them on your ship," Sera said without preamble, "They will also dispose of the bodies."

"How come the droids are listening to you?" Wek asked.

"It is part of Zo D'noh's will," Sera explained, "Once he was confirmed dead, control of his company and all of its assets fell to me."

"A droid in control of a private company?" Tanith asked in disbelief, "Is that even legal?"

"This is Nar Shaddaa," Bitters told her, "there's really only one law: don't mess with whoever's in charge. Other than that, most people have free reign."

Tanith nodded, accepting that answer, just as the droids returned with the weapons; one of them, however, was holding a sniper rifle that was anything but standard. It was also familiar somehow…

"_Mistress, this unit recovered this weapon inside the crashed vessel," _the droid said, addressing Sera, _"No records exist for this rifle; orders?"_

"I think I recognize it," Ryan said, then held out his hand, "May I?"

At a nod from Sera, the droid passed the rifle over to Ryan, who looked it over.

"Wek, let me see your rifle."

Wek presented his own sniper rifle; aside from the collapsible feature, it was almost the same!

"I guess we now know where your rifle comes from," Ryan said, "It's a modified Imperial Intelligence weapon."

"That's the weapon that killed, um…" Tanith glanced at Sera, who still maintained a neutral expression; Ryan wondered if she was incapable of any other.

"That was the weapon that terminated Zo D'noh," Sera said.

"Do you want to destroy it?" Ryan asked; Sera might have been a droid, but she looked so human that he had to ask the question.

Sera shook her head. "It is illogical to throw away a potential resource."

Ryan nodded. "Fine, we'll keep it as a backup."

"What is your next course of action?" Sera asked, her head tilted in a very human fashion.

"I guess we contact Mon Mothma," Ryan said, "and tell her about what happened here."

"Might I suggest we go back to Zo D'noh's corporate headquarters?" Sera asked, "It is more secure than here."

Ryan and his team looked around at the fire, debris and bodies.

"Fair point," Ryan admitted, "Lead the way."

…

An hour later, Ryan, his team and Sera were in a shining office that had been used by the late Zo D'noh. Sera had had droids clean their armor and replenish their power packs, though for some reason, she had yet to release her hold on the repeating blaster she'd appropriated.

Ryan activated the office's holocommunicator and set it to the frequency that D'noh had used to communicate with Mon Mothma; after a few moments, a blue hologram of the woman appeared.

"_Ah, Mr. Nimbus," _she said, _"I see that you and your team are here, as is Miss D'noh; I can only assume that the mission succeeded. Tell me, where is Zo D'noh?"_

"It's Commander," Ryan corrected her, "and there were a few complications. It turned out that the Empire was responsible for Sera's kidnapping, and Zo D'noh himself was killed by Imperial Intelligence."

Mon Mothma's eyes went wide. _"Are you saying that you went up against a team of Intelligence operatives!?"_

Ryan shook his head. "No, just one sniper; she's dead, by the way. The rest of the kidnappers were Stormtroopers in civilian garb. This must have been a rushed job; they might have looked like civilians, but their weapons were all standard Imperial tech."

"_Well, while I am glad that you removed a dangerous Imperial threat, I can't say that I'm happy that D'noh is dead; the Alliance was counting on the droids he was going to sell to us."_

"Actually," Sera said, stepping forward, "according to Zo D'noh's notes, he was planning on terminating his agreement with the Rebel Alliance; he felt he could not trust you, after the troops you sent failed to prevent my abduction."

"He told us as much before the battle," Ryan added.

Mon Mothma's expression turned downcast. _"Then all of this was for nothing…"_

"Incorrect," Sera said, "With Zo D'noh's death, I became sole owner of Zo Mechanics; I see no reason not to fulfill the original bargain."

Mon Mothma looked like she wanted to kiss the droid; Ryan wondered if she even knew that Sera _was _a droid.

"_This is wonderful! Can I assume that the Alliance will be able to conduct further business with Zo Mechanics?"_

Sera tilted her head for a moment. "I must ask Commander Nimbus and his team a question; may I contact you shortly?"

Mon Mothma nodded, still happy; seconds later, her hologram cut out.

"You want to ask us something?" Ryan leaned against D'noh's desk.

"Yes. I do not desire to remain on Nar Shaddaa, watching over Zo D'noh's company. I was created to be human, but when I told Zo D'noh that I had aspirations to be more than his daughter, he placed that restraining bolt on me."

"What else did you want to be?" Tanith asked.

"I did not know," Sera admitted, "However, my role as his daughter was not satisfying; I wished to see more than what Zo D'noh wanted me to see."

"You said you _didn't_ know what you wanted," Bitters interrupted, "Did something change?"

Sera nodded. "While I was being held captive, I witnessed the Imperials murder a family of Twi'leks in order to secure a safehouse. I found that I desired for the Imperials to suffer a similar fate."

"Sounds like you wanted vengeance," Wek guessed, "I can relate to that."

"Really?" Ryan asked; he didn't know any of his teammates' reasons for fighting the Empire. He had only assumed that the non-humans were upset with being treated as second-class citizens at the best of times.

Wek nodded. "My little sister was killed by an Imperial officer; she was all I had, and then she was gone… I spent the next week hunting down those Imperials, but the officer got away. After that, I hitched a ride on the first freighter headed off-world, and made my way to the Rebellion; that was almost two years ago."

"What about you guys?" Ryan asked Bitters and Tanith; he was starting to feel uncomfortable, but now he felt that he needed to know.

"I was a doctor on Corulag," Bitters said, "I had my own clinic and everything; then a small plague broke out. I knew how to cure it, but the chemicals I needed were being held by the Imperial garrison; I tried to convince them to help, that I'd even pay for the chemicals, but they refused. Then they came into my clinic and killed every one of my patients; 'containing the plague', they called it. I killed the men responsible for the massacre, then joined the Rebellion."

Ryan felt increasing shame and revulsion for ever having joined the Empire; he turned to Tanith.

"And you?"

Tanith sighed. "My family moved to Alderaan when I was little; I was working at the Kuati shipyards when the Death Star arrived and… well, you all know the rest."

Ryan started hoping that more Imperials showed up, just so he could shoot them. He also questioned whether or not he could fight against the Empire, when the only reason he had was for self-preservation. Until he found a reason of his own, however, he'd do it in the name of his teammates.

Sera stepped forward. "Because of Zo D'noh and, by extension, myself, a family was killed; I believe that I must atone for that. The Empire must be punished; Commander Nimbus, I desire to join your team."

The four organics in the room stared in surprise; this was unexpected.

"Umm, okay," Ryan said uncertainly, "but what about the company? Besides that, can you even fight?"

"Oh, she can fight, Commander," Wek said, "I saw her gun down half a dozen Imps, no problem."

"I regret to inform you, however, that my chassis is not designed for combat," Sera said, "I recommend an overhaul, in order to be more durable."

"Wait a second," Tanith said, "wouldn't it be easier to just give her the extra suit of armor on the ship? It's the smallest one we have; I think it would fit her."

Ryan thought about it for a moment. "Okay, fine; looks like we have our heavy-weapons specialist!"

"Thank you, Commander," Sera said, the faintest of smiles on her artificial lips, "I will not disappoint you."

Ryan held up his hand. "That still doesn't cover what you're going to do with the company."

Sera nodded. "I believe I can answer that."

She reactivated the holocom, bringing Mon Mothma's hologram back.

"_Is everything taken care of?" _she asked with a hint of impatience.

"Yes, save for one issue," Sera said, "I wish to make an addition to the sale of droids."

"_An addition? What might that be?"_

Sera walked over to a computer on D'noh's desk and tapped a few commands before answering.

"I have just routed all of Zo Mechanics' resources to the coordinates you sent," she said, "You will be receiving five thousand security droids, along with another seven thousand labor, construction and medical models. Consider the transports they arrive in to be gifts. The finances required to move these resources without being noticed will drain the remainder of the company's wealth, so this will be the last deal between the Rebellion and Zo Mechanics."

If Ryan hadn't been busy staring at what Sera had just done, he would have noticed Mon Mothma opening her mouth, then snapping it shut again.

"_T-thank you!" _Mon Mothma finally gasped, _"The Alliance cannot express its gratitude enough!"_

"I know how you can start," Ryan said, getting over his own shock, "You can give us our fee; we weren't doing this mission gratis, you know."

Mon Mothma's expression turned slightly sour. _"Yes, of course… how does fifty-thousand credits sound?"_

Ryan was about to object; after all, no one had thought that Imperial Intelligence might be here, so they deserved more as compensation. Then he noticed Sera almost imperceptibly shake her head; deciding to take a leap of faith, he shrugged.

"Sounds fine to me. I'll send you my account information; I expect those credits within ten hours."

With a curt nod, Mon Mothma cut the connection; the other members of Ryan's team looked at him strangely.

"You know," Bitters said, "I bet we could have gotten more out of her."

"You will not need it," Sera said, "I can give you more than enough credits, as well as supplies."

"I thought you said that Zo Mechanics would go belly-up after giving away all of that stuff?" Wek asked.

"Correct," Sera told him, "the company will not survive; Zo D'noh's personal finances, however, are considerable."

"How much?" Ryan dared to ask.

"Six hundred thousand credits," was the simple response.

Once again, the others stared in shock; Bitters almost fell over. That was more money than most people saw in two or three years!

"Umm, great!" Ryan said, a wide smile on his face, "Everyone, start writing up a shopping list; I know we need stuff, so let's get it done!"

…

Thanks to the efficiency of the company's droids, the shopping-spree was completed in only an hour. Everyone had written up what they needed, either for themselves, the team as a whole, or the ship.

Wek had asked for components to build personal cloaking-generators for the entire team, and assured Ryan that he could have them built within a week. He also got some top-of-the-line computer spikes and other technical equipment; considering that he was already talented with computers, having the best equipment possible only made him better.

Bitters had ordered a large stockpile of medical equipment; while the _Desperate Measures _had a med-bay, it was bare of any supplies. Bitters had bought training-swords for himself and Ryan, plus practice-knives for the entire team; he also ordered plenty of parts for cybernetics.

"Just in case any of you lose a limb," he had said.

Tanith had bought a better sensor array for the ship, as well as two-dozen torpedoes. When Ryan asked why, she pointed to the bow of the ship.

"The ship has torpedo launchers," she had said, as if it were obvious.

She had also bought some better tools for herself, as well as something she refused to tell anyone about, telling them all that it was for a personal hobby of hers.

Sera, now wearing the final suit of Mandalorian armor, had purchased explosives, additional power packs, and had bought hundreds of mini-rockets for the team's launchers, as well as fuel for their flamethrowers.

While waiting for their supplies to arrive, Ryan had equipped Sera with the only heavy weapon in the armory: a large, bulky cannon that was over a meter long. The majority of the weapon was angular, save the round barrel, which had two modes of fire; the first could unleash a rapid stream of blaster-fire, which could be sustained for several minutes before needing to cool down. The second mode of fire launched powerful shots of energy that exploded with the force of a thermal detonator. Ryan was glad that Sera was a droid; the cannon was too heavy for anyone to lift for extended periods of time. Mag-locked to her back was the cannon's power pack, which was the size of a small backpack, and connected to the cannon by a short cable. She also received a blaster pistol and _beskar _dagger as a backup.

As for Ryan himself, he had the cheapest order. First, he purchased some civilian clothes; with all of his previous outfits lost forever, he'd need some new ones. He didn't want to spend every waking moment in his armor, after all.

He also bought good-quality foodstuffs, and some paint for his armor, and for everyone else, if they wanted.

"As cool as this armor looks," Ryan had said, "the dull-metal look is boring."

Their purchases were expensive overall, but at the end of the day, they still had a quarter-million credits left to their name.

While waiting for the _Desperate Measures _to finish refueling, the team went to their quarters to customize their respective suits.

Bitters had painted his copper, with vertical silver stripes down the arms, legs, chest and the center of the helmet.

Wek had painted his in a camouflage-pattern, with gray, black, brown and dark-green. He'd made sure that every single part was non-reflective, giving him maximum cover.

Sera had painted hers dark-red, with broad, black stripes going down the arms.

Tanith's armor was now a gray-blue, though she'd also painted black-and-yellow hazmat stripes going vertically down her arms and legs.

Ryan had painted his own suit matte-black, with dulled silver on his elbows, knees and shoulders. His helmet, however, had a stylized human skull on it, the black, triangular visor replacing the nose and eye-sockets of the skull. As a finishing touch, he took a long, dark-brown coat that ended at his knees, cut off the sleeves and slipped it over his armor; he took the belt that connected to his _beskad_'s sheath and tied it over the coat.

Once they were done, the team assembled in the cockpit. Tanith took the pilot's seat, while Ryan took the copilot's seat next to her; everyone else sat behind them.

"You know," Tanith commented, as she began warming up the engines, "our group really needs a name."

"Why would we need a name?" Sera asked.

"Well, we're mercenaries," Tanith explained, "If someone wants to hire us, it would be awkward to ask for each of us by name."

"Not to mention, we're enemies of the Empire," Ryan added, "so keeping our real names out of it might be a good idea."

"So, what would you call us?" Wek asked, "You are the Commander, after all."

Ryan tapped his chin for a moment. "What do you call a bunch of rejects, runaways and outcasts?" he noticed Bitters flipping his _beskar _dagger, and realized that each of them had a blade just like it. "That's it! We _are _outcasts; we can be the Outcast Blades!"

The others grinned, save for Sera; she only nodded.

"Well then," Tanith said, punching in the coordinates for the Rebel fleet, "let the Empire beware; the Outcast Blades are coming for you!"

…

_**Interdictor-**_**Class Star Destroyer **_**Harvester**_

Most Moffs within the Empire had a reputation for self-aggrandizement, cowardice, corruption and greed; none were known for the latter more than Moff Laar. He was unusual for his lack of fear in combat, preferring to lead from the front with his own, customized _Interdictor_-class Star Destroyer, the _Harvester_.

An _Interdictor_-class was normally teamed up with one or more Star Destroyers of other classes, for the sole purpose of preventing the enemy's escape, and then annihilating them. The rounded nodes on the vessel were actually artificial gravity-well generators; they prevented ships from making hyperspace jumps.

The _Harvester_, however, had been modified over the years; unlike other ships of the same class, she had been stripped of her torpedo-launchers, and then up-gunned with over two-dozen ion cannons. Ion cannons didn't do much physical damage, but they disrupted internal systems and shields; perfect for capturing ships.

And that was exactly why Moff Laar was known as 'The Moff of Avarice'. He was relentless in pursuit of pirates, smugglers, and Rebels; whenever the _Harvester _and her escort of eight _Tartan_-class cruisers engaged the enemy, Laar's flagship would quickly disable the primary target, then send the cruisers to destroy enemy fighters and bombers, or to focus fire on the weapons and engines of larger ships. Once the primary target was unable to get away or fight back, Laar would send in his own, personal troops.

Officially designated Special Regiment 47, Moff Laar's personal army was known as 'The Reapers'. Specializing in rapid assault and boarding, they were feared by friend and foe alike for not only their skill and upgraded equipment, but also their fanatical devotion to Moff Laar. Each member of the regiment was handpicked by Laar from other units, only selecting troops that were in the top ten percent of only veteran units. For their service, each soldier or pilot under his command received five times the normal pay in the Empire.

Of course, even with a Moff's considerable pay, that was a ridiculous; the extra money had to come from somewhere. And that was where Moff Laar's tactics for capturing ships came into play; by going after ships filled with valuable cargo, Laar would line his own pockets. He would even sell captured ships for scrap; considering how aggressively he would search for targets, he would often have more than enough to not only pay his troops, but store the rest of his ill-gotten gains within his hidden base on Dantooine.

At that moment, Laar would have given up every piece of wealth he had if it meant avenging the death of his grandson. While Raff had not been as bright as his grandfather, nor as brave, he had been the only family the Moff had left; his daughter and son-in-law had died years earlier due to a miscalculated hyperspace jump that sent them hurtling into an asteroid field.

Now, his line was ended, his only honest joy, dead.

The thin, aging man scowled deeply as the squad he'd sent to retrieve his lost property returned. They had not recovered what was rightfully his; they _had _recovered the body of his grandson, as well as the only person in the galaxy that might have answers… if he could keep the man alive.

From the observation room of the _Harvester_'s hangar—an _Interdictor _didn't normally have a hangar, or the ability to deploy troops; another upgrade Laar had added—the Moff watched as the shuttle landed, and his troops exited. Laar saw the two medics leave first, rushing a limbless man to a waiting team of doctors; as they moved the injured man away, Laar's gaze was caught by another group of soldiers. This group had a motionless body on a stretcher, covered by a canvas.

Laar felt a tightness in his throat as he walked down to intercept the pseudo-funeral procession; as soon as they saw him, the men carrying his grandson's body froze. Without addressing them, he walked over and removed the canvas over the body's face; Raff looked so peaceful.

Laar, however, felt no peace; someone had killed his grandson, and if he had to accommodate a crippled soldier's demands or go to the Emperor himself to get his revenge, he'd do it.

Without a word, he spun on his heel and marched to the infirmary, where he found a team of doctors working on the injured soldier.

"Sir," one of the doctors said, "this soldier has refused to tell us anything about how his injuries came about until you arrive."

"I was made aware of this arrangement, Doctor," Laar said, "and I am here; be prepared to treat him and get him on his feet."

"Sir, he doesn't even _have _feet…" the doctor said, before shying away from Laar's glare; the Moff wasn't normally in a good mood unless he was tallying his latest capture, and today was especially bad.

Pushing past the sweating doctor, Laar approached the soldier, who looked up at him with one open eye; the other one had shrapnel around it, and had swollen shut.

"I've been told that you want to kill the people who killed my grandson," the Moff said sternly, "as well as get revenge for what they did to you."

Grif only nodded.

"Then our interests align," Laar said, a cruel smile on his face, "I have the resources to not only give you back your limbs, but make you into a weapon, one worthy of the Empire; if you accept, I promise that you will be unleashed on the murderers with my full support."

Grif cracked a smile, despite the pain it caused; Laar took that as a 'yes'.

"I don't know who the Jedi was," Grif wheezed through broken teeth, "but I can tell you about the other."

"Yes?" Laar asked eagerly.

"His name is Ryan Nimbus, service number TK-8992…"

**The Outcast Blades are assembled.**

**Their enemy is mobilizing.**

**Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!**

…

**Okay, now that that's out of the way, this was fun to write! Creating all those weapons and equipment, writing up the things about Moff Laar that make him unique, all that stuff. Some things will need to be addressed, though.**

**The Blades' equipment: all of them have the same kind of armor, with the hidden blade, mini-rockets and flamethrower. They also have the same backups: a heavy blaster pistol with single-shot and burst settings (Bitters has two), and a **_**beskar **_**dagger. It's the rest of their equipment that makes them unique.**

**Ryan might not have the coolest weapons, but he makes up for that with his skill; plus, he has a **_**beskad**_**, and any time I've read about a character with one of those, they're just awesome. Oh, and something I forgot to mention: I got the idea for his guns from the Mandalorians in "Star Wars: the Clone Wars". They were carbines that were small enough to be used one-handed. Also, coat plus armor equals badass.**

**I based Tanith's weapon (at least, the function) off of the Geth Plasma Shotgun from Mass Effect. I hardly ever used shotguns in that game, but when I did, the Plasma was one of my favorites.**

**I know Sera didn't get to use her gun in this chapter, but it'll come soon, I promise! Also, when creating her, I combined elements of Dorothy from Big O, and the Terminator; maybe a little bit of Data from Star Trek, too.**

**With Bitters, I was inspired to give him dual blasters after playing "Star Wars: the Old Republic". Every time I saw a Corellian, they had a blaster pistol, or two! **

**Okay, before anyone bites my head off, I got the idea for Wek's visor from Garrus from Mass Effect. His sniper rifle, on the other hand, was all me. And yes, the idea for everyone having personal cloaking-generators is going to be a reality. Because, why not?**

**One thing I'd like to ask, though: did the violence seem too much? Should I change the rating to M? If I do that, however, expect some more adult themes, so consider that. Leave an answer in the review!**

**The shroud of the Dark Side has fallen; begun, the Muffin Wars have. **


	5. Mavericks, Part 1

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S DO, AND SO DO MOST OF THE EVENTS WITHIN THIS STORY. THIS DISCLAIMER IS AN ENERGY SHIELD, GENERATED FROM THE FOREST MOON OF ENDOR.**

**You know, despite the fact that the events of "Star Wars: The Old Republic" happened about 3,000 years before "A New Hope", the technology in the Original Trilogy seems to be lacking in comparison. Of course, the armored troops in "Old Republic" die in one shot during cinematics too, so maybe it's just an aesthetics thing.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 5

Mavericks, Part 1

**Mygeeto**

Colonel Jarde, commanding officer of Imperial Supply Depot Theta-29, shivered for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. He glared at the environmental controls; despite setting them to a much warmer setting than was standard, he was still freezing. Mygeeto during the winter months was the worst possible posting, in his opinion; his troops would sometimes have to melt the frost off of their armor with the cutting-torches in the engineering section.

Still, it wasn't all bad; there wasn't much that happened in this part of the planet, and that left Jarde free to run his base through the same routine without interruptions. If there was one thing the Colonel hated more than anything, it was a disruption of his schedule; he wanted everything to be in its proper place and time.

Of course, that was when the comm-unit in his office beeped; someone wanted to talk to him.

"Yes, what is it?" Jarde demanded.

"_Sir, a ship has been detected on our scanners," _the confused voice of a technician said, _"It doesn't match any known Imperial classifications, but the pilot requested permission to land, and then sent an Admiral-level clearance-code. Should we let the ship land?"_

Jarde felt a brief spike of fear; a ship that was carrying someone of equivalent rank to an Admiral? He quickly went over the happenings of his base for the last few weeks; nothing out of the ordinary had happened, which was how he liked it, so why was someone like that coming?

"Let them land," he finally said, "but assemble a platoon in the hangar, and prime the security turrets, just in case."

"_Copy that, Colonel."_

Once the technician signed off, Jarde sighed; other than the cold, it had been looking like such a pleasant morning…

…

A few minutes later, Jarde and his troops were waiting in the hangar; the Colonel was wearing a thick jacket over his gray officer's uniform, while his Stormtroopers were all in their winter gear. The Lieutenant in charge of the platoon was slightly annoyed with his CO at the moment; he had drawn straws with the Lieutenant of the other platoon on the base, and he had lost. Now, he was standing out in the coldest part of the depot, and all for nothing.

Finally, he could take it no longer.

"Sir," he said, addressing Jarde, "what is this about?"

Jarde sighed, something he did often. "There is an unknown ship approaching; it wasn't a recognized Imperial vessel, but it had an Admiral-level code-clearance."

_High-security clearance and an unknown ship? _The Lieutenant thought, then said, "It could be Intelligence, sir; I've heard that they use unconventional ships, and some of them do have that kind of authority."

Jarde paled. "That isn't very reassuring, Lieutenant."

Their conversation was ended when the mystery ship arrived; aside from the oversized guns on all sides of her, the ship wasn't very impressive.

"Keep all weapons ready," Jarde said into his comm-unit, though his orders went to the platoon and the turret operators.

"_Sir," _a technician in hangar control said, _"we've just scanned the vessel, and the shields aren't up; I don't think they're here for a fight, sir."_

Jarde sighed again, but this time it was one of relief; with the ship's shields down, the four heavy turrets would tear it apart if it was deemed a threat. That meant that whoever was onboard the ship was either friendly or foolish. Either one worked for him.

"Allow the ship to land, but be ready, just in case."

The operators in hangar control must have sent the ship the message, but for some reason, the ship didn't extend its landing gear. Instead, the belly-mounted cannons opened fire! Jarde dove to the ground, as did half of his men; the other half weren't so lucky, and were obliterated, as were two of the turrets.

"Shoot it down!" he roared into his comms.

The remaining turrets opened fire; the ship was able to avoid one of the shots, despite the limited space in the hangar, but the other hit home. At first, Jarde felt satisfaction, but that quickly turned to terror and disbelief when he saw that, other than a scorch-mark on the hull, the ship was undamaged! Still, whoever was aboard must have felt a desire for revenge, because the dorsal cannons opened fire on the remaining turrets for a few seconds after they had already been reduced to atoms.

At first, Jarde thought that the ship would proceed to kill them all, but his expected demise never came. To the Imperials' shock, the ship landed and extended a ramp from just in front of the belly-mounted turret.

"B-be prepared f-for anything, m-men!" Jarde couldn't help but stutter; the level of firepower that small ship had unleashed was staggering.

The Stormtroopers raised their weapons at the opening, but nothing came out; finally, Jarde decided not to rely on his eyes, and listened. It was hard to hear anything, what with his ears still ringing from the explosions seconds earlier, and the howling winter wind, but he could swear he heard footsteps coming down the ramp.

Confused, Jarde waved one of his troopers forward; hesitantly, the man complied, and approached the ship with his blaster drawn. At the foot of the ramp, he turned around.

"Sir, there's no one he—augh!"

Jarde and his soldiers jerked back, as the man fell to his knees with his throat gushing blood; it was as if a knife had cut his throat, but no one was there! The Imperials' assumption was wrong, however; with a slight hum, an armored figure appeared, standing over the dead trooper. He wore matte-black armor with silver highlights, a long, sleeveless coat over the armor, and a sword strapped to his back. A terrifying skull-like image was painted onto his helmet, which he shook as he placed his dagger into the sheath on his chest.

The man spoke in a low voice, but Jarde and his men could still hear what he said.

"Moving in on primary; Blades, engage hostiles."

With four more hums, four figures appeared in a semicircle with the first; they all wore armor like his, but with different color-schemes, and different weapons.

Trembling in fear, Jarde's men raised their weapons, but their attackers were faster; the Nautolan, the only one whose species was recognizable, raised a sniper rifle and fired, blowing the head off of the Lieutenant, while the smallest one—female, if her curves were anything to go by—opened fire with a ridiculously-large cannon, killing all but two Stormtroopers with rapid bursts of fire.

At the same time as that was happening, the leader was running forward; before the bodies hit the ground, he had tackled Jarde into a crate, then delivered a hard punch to his solar plexus. Jarde fell to his knees in pain, just as one of his remaining men was knocked a meter backwards by the scattergun of the blue-armored one—another woman—and the other man was nearly bisected by a large brute of a man who was wielding the most brutal-looking vibrosword he'd ever seen.

As he was gasping for breath, Jarde remembered a report—a rumor, really—that a friend of his had sent from the Outer Rim. It had told of a small team of commandos with skills, weapons and technology that only the most elite forces in the Empire could hope to compete with; this small group was supposedly responsible for over forty attacks on Imperial bases in the last six months, and each attack was more efficient—and more devastating—than the last. If the rumors were even half-true, these five people had killed almost four-hundred Imperial soldiers, and made off with tens of thousands of credits' worth of weapons and equipment.

Now, it seemed the rumors were true.

Just as Jarde got his breath back, he felt an armored hand grab him by the collar and slam him against the same crate.

"Your security code," the black-armored man growled.

Before Jarde could answer, alarms began to blare throughout the depot. The Nautolan looked to the leader.

"Blade Lead, we've got twenty minutes before an Imperial patrol gets here to check that out!"

"Understood, Blade Three," the man, now identified as Blade Lead, drew a large blaster pistol and pressed it against Jarde's forehead, "Take Blade Four and Five and head to the security office; try to make the network think it was a false alarm."

"Copy that." Blade Three left, the brute and the small woman right behind him.

"Now then," the blue-armored woman said, addressing Jarde, "are you going to give us your code now, or are we going to find out how many fingers you lose before you do?"

The sight of the woman idly flipping her large knife was enough to convince Jarde that she was serious.

"The code is Thesh-twelve-beta-six!" he shrieked.

"Thanks," Blade Lead said, before slamming his helmeted head into Jarde's face, knocking him out.

As he stepped back, the blue-armored woman opened a comm-channel to the rest of the Blades. "Blade Three, this is Blade Two; what's your status, over?"

"_You're asking us already?" _the incredulous voice of Blade Four said, while the sound of blaster-fire could be heard in the background, _"The last guy took five minutes to crack!"_

Blade Two looked at Blade Lead, who shrugged; the pair jogged off to another section of the depot as Blade Two spoke.

"I pulled the I'm-going-to-cut-off-your-fingers routine," she said, "They never resist that; anyway, status?"

This time, Blade Five answered. _"We have reached the security office; Blade Three is attempting to slice the computers and send away investigating Imperials, but a squad of Stormtroopers is attacking. Blade Four and I are holding them off."_

Blade Lead and Blade Two stopped for a moment.

"Do you need backup?" Blade Lead asked.

"_Nah, we got this," _Blade Four answered, _"You two go do your thing!"_

The two Blades ran towards Jarde's office; they were within sight of the target when a five-man team of Stormtroopers spotted them.

"Stop those commandos!" one shouted, "Blast them!"

Too far away to use her scattergun, Blade Two drew her pistol and fired a burst, killing the trooper who'd yelled. Blade Lead drew his pistol with his left hand and his carbine with his right; one fusillade of fire later, and the other four troopers were dead.

"I could have taken them," Blade Two commented, as they reached Jarde's office.

"And let you have all the fun?" Blade Lead replied, kicking down the door and walking inside.

"Wow, this guy was _really_ organized," Blade Two remarked, looking at the neatly-stacked pile of datapads and reports on the spotless desk, "It's like Sera's quarters."

"Why were you in Sera's quarters?" Blade Lead asked, as he approached a computer terminal and inputted the code Jarde had given. "She never uses them; she's always in the cargo bay or in the armory."

"Oh, no reason," Blade Two said in a falsely-innocent tone.

"I don't think I want to know," Blade Lead said, just as he finished downloading the data he was after; stepping away, he activated his comms. "Blade Three, give me a sitrep!"

"_Situation is as green as Blade Two," _Blade Three replied, _"The Imps are moving away; told them it was a weapons malfunction."_

"And they bought that?" Blade Lead asked disbelievingly; he could almost hear Blade Three shrug over the comms.

"_I doubt they wanted to deviate from their patrol; it's kriffing cold enough as it is without a detour."_

"Copy that," Blade Lead said, "Did you get the data on your end?"

"_Yeah, and I've got control of the labor droids; they can move the supplies onto the _Desperate _in about ten minutes."_

"Any idea what the Empire has so graciously given us?" Blade Two asked, a smile in her voice.

"_Nothing special, I'm afraid; blasters, some rocket launchers and grenades, some basic medical equipment—oh, what have we here?"_

Blade Lead froze, expecting trouble; Blade Two turned towards him, expecting to be ordered to move out.

"_What is it, kid?" _Blade Four asked.

"_Looks like another piece of the Mystery Target; want me to grab it, Lead?"_

"Affirmative," Blade Lead said, relieved that his teammates weren't in danger, "grab it and go; I want to be out of here before the corpses get cold."

"Stop!" both Blade Lead and Blade Two turned to see Jarde in the doorway, a blaster in one hand, while the other tried to stem the blood flowing from his nose.

"I thought I knocked him out," Blade Lead said, mostly to himself.

"Next time, hit them harder," Blade Two commented.

"You dare touch my office!?" Jarde shrieked, but all he did was make the two Blades raise eyebrows in disbelief; _that's _what he was upset about?

"Die!" Jarde fired; the blaster bolt grazed Blade Lead's shoulder, but other than scratching the paint, did no damage.

In response, Blade Lead calmly drew his carbine and shot the Colonel through the heart.

"Let's go," he said.

…

Less than ten minutes later, Imperial Naval Command noted a ship leaving Mygeeto, but by the time they scrambled a squadron of TIE fighters to intercept, the ship had gone to lightspeed.

…

_**Desperate Measures**_**, en route to Tatooine **

"Well, that could have gone better," Ryan Nimbus, known in the field as Blade Lead, said, pulling off his helmet.

The other members of the Outcast Blades looked at him with varying degrees of disbelief.

"We got the intel and the supplies, not to mention took out most of the Imperials," Tanith Tsor, Blade Two, said, "What went wrong?"

"Nothing went wrong," Ryan clarified, "I'm just a little annoyed that we haven't found anything special in, I don't know, a month, back when we found those hyperdrive blueprints; we keep finding all this standard equipment, and every time, I keep hoping for something big."

"What about…" Wek Vaas, Blade Three, began to say.

"Don't talk about the Mystery Target, Wek," Ryan said, "I'm really not in the mood right now."

Three months ago, the Outcast Blades had found traces of a transmission that had been bounced across over at least a dozen depots and bases. Wek was convinced that, due to the level of encryption around each part of the transmission, it led to something huge; it might be a way to end the war once and for all!

However, Wek's little obsession was starting to drive Ryan crazy; even if it did lead to something huge, the data they had collected was still useless, unless Wek had a breakthrough, or until they found every part, and there could be hundreds of those!

"Well, we've gotta have _something_ to keep us entertained," Dirk 'Bitters' Bitterman, Blade Four, pointed out, "Otherwise, this'll get boring."

"We are in combat at least twice a standard week," S3-R4, nicknamed Sera and known by the call-sign of Blade Five, argued calmly, "That would hardly be considered 'boring'."

Bitters only rolled his eyes.

"Okay, that's enough," Ryan said, forestalling any argument, "Wek, you can work on the Mystery Target on your own time; Sera, I know you've been examining the data, too, so you can help, if you want. As for the rest of us, we'll just make our standard raids… unless Mon Mothma decides to actually give us a kriffing job!"

The other Blades scowled; even Sera's normally-emotionless face narrowed in distaste. No one liked even hearing her name, and only Ryan could stand to be in the same room as her for more than a few minutes.

…

After the mission on Nar Shaddaa six months earlier, the Outcast Blades had attacked several Imperial supply depots and liberating their contents for the Alliance. This had gotten them plenty of fans within the Rebellion, who were finally being equipped with weapons that weren't a decade old; it had also encouraged some groups within the Rebellion to act similarly, though they didn't turn to a mercenary lifestyle. For the first time since the destruction of the Death Star, the Rebels were taking the offensive.

And then Mon Mothma had stepped in; she had forbidden many of her officers from making so many aggressive acts, stating that she didn't want to risk lives unnecessarily. This had caused an uproar with many Rebels, who saw it as an act of cowardice; what was the point of a rebellion that didn't even fight for its cause?

In the end, however, Mon Mothma had won out; until the Rebellion found a more permanent base of operations, the fleet as a whole could not be put at risk. On top of that, and to the ire of both the Blades and their supporters, Mon Mothma refused to authorize the Blades on any critical missions, and this time, she never even gave a reason.

This was the last straw for Ryan, who took his team and his ship and began launching independent raids on Imperial targets across the Outer and Mid Rim. The Outcast Blades then took their own form of revenge against Mon Mothma: they started selling the equipment they took, rather than just giving it away. Granted, they sold the equipment at a fraction of what it was worth, but considering that they would sell hundreds of blasters, or other pieces of gear, they still made a lot of credits.

Still, even though they were nearly self-sufficient, the Outcast Blades wanted something a little bigger to live in; the _Desperate Measures _was a nice ship, but it was a little cramped at times.

This time, however, it was the Rebellion that came to their aid; tired of being under Mon Mothma's thumb, a battlegroup under the command of General Kota, along with all Force-users aside from Luke Skywalker, decided to break away from the main fleet and helped serve as a mobile base for the Blades, though Kota gave up operational command shortly after. While they were still officially part of the Alliance, the ships of Battlegroup Maverick took more independent action; unless the Rebellion needed them for an emergency, they would be a separate faction.

Now, after nearly two weeks away, the Outcast Blades were going home.

…

**Tatooine**

Above the desert world of Tatooine, the _Desperate Measures _emerged from hyperspace a short distance from Battlegroup Maverick. Ryan smiled to himself as he viewed the vessels that had many of his friends aboard.

Composed of six capital ships, the real attention-grabber of the group was the vaguely-triangular form of the Mon Cal Star Cruiser, the _Tides of Change_. At a kilometer long, covered with powerful weapons and some of the best shields in the galaxy, she was the heaviest hitter in the battlegroup, as well as the carrier for the squadrons of fighters that accompanied them. Despite this, she wasn't the command vessel.

That honor fell to the Nebulon-B Frigate, the _Blaze of Glory_. Though much smaller and less-powerful than the _Tides_, the _Blaze _was captained by Rila M'zan, one of the bravest officers in the Rebellion. Though a Nebulon-B looked fragile, with its oval-shaped nose that attached to a triangular stern via a long, thin corridor, the _Blaze _could dish out and take much more than most thought.

Flying around the two larger ships were a pair of Corellian Corvettes and a pair of Corellian Missile Gunships. The Corvettes, the _Bright Light _and the _Lucky Hand_, were fast and designed to take out enemy fighters quickly, preferably with friendly fighters nearby. The Missile Gunships, the _Brave _and the _Bold_, were designed to hurt ships that were far above their weight class; their missiles were used to bypass ray shields, and were fast enough to hit slower-moving Star Destroyers, do considerable damage, and then escape.

As the _Desperate Measures _came within the range of the _Tides_' weapons, Ryan activated the comms.

"Battlegroup Maverick, this is Commander Nimbus aboard the _Desperate Measures_, requesting permission to land in the _Tides of Change_."

A moment later, a female voice replied, _"Roger that, Commander; I assume that you've brought us some presents?"_

"Soon to be paid for by Mon Mothma herself, yes," Ryan said, and could almost feel the smug satisfaction from the other Blades who sat in the cockpit with him.

"_Permission to land granted," _the woman on the other end said, _"After you land, Commander, Captain M'zan would like to see you aboard the _Blaze of Glory_. Welcome home, Outcast Blades."_

"Copy that," Ryan said, "It's good to be back."

As he cut the communications, he heard Bitters chuckling behind him.

"I've noticed something," the big medic said, "Captain M'zan always calls _you_ to her ship after we get back, never the rest of us; how long have you two been… you know…"

He and Wek chuckled at the implications, while only Sera noticed Tanith's deep scowl.

"There's nothing between us," Ryan said with a raised eyebrow, "She just wants the _Desperate _as a permanent part of the battlegroup."

From her position behind Tanith, Sera's enhanced hearing caught the Mirialan whisper the words, "She always wants what she can't have…"

Despite her frustration, Tanith expertly guided the ship into the cavernous hangar of the _Tides_; as they began to land, Wek pointed at the side of the viewport.

"Looks like we beat General Kota back here; I don't see the _Rogue Shadow _around."

The moods of everyone immediately perked up, even the annoyed Tanith. The Blades had a friendly rivalry with the team aboard that ship, though they were almost as close as family. As soon as the _Desperate Measures _landed, the Outcast Blades went to their quarters to get out of their armor and into their normal clothing.

At first, Sera had worn her armor all the time, but after Ryan had told her that a lot of the Rebels found her intimidating, she had finally gotten some civilian clothing. She wore black pants, boots and sleeveless jacket, which went over a long-sleeved, dark-red shirt.

Bitters wore camouflage-patterned pants, brown boots and a white, sleeveless shirt; after being told not to take Ol' Chopper out when not on a mission, he never left the _Desperate _without one of his blaster pistols on his hip.

Wek wore unassuming gray clothes; unless he was with the other Blades, there were very few people he ever wanted to be noticed by.

Tanith had kept the orange jumpsuit that had held her engineering tools, but had removed the upper half; instead, that was replaced by a tight-fitting black shirt with the sleeves cut away, as well as pair of fingerless gloves that ended just below her elbows.

Ryan wore loose-fitting black pants, black boots and a gray shirt; over that, he wore a long, brown coat, similar to the one he wore over his armor, but with the sleeves still attached. As a finishing touch, he kept his _beskar _dagger sheathed at his hip.

The team walked down the ramp, where a small group of Rebel soldiers and pilots greeted them with cheers; the Outcast Blades were heroes to the men and women of Battlegroup Maverick. Ryan waved in friendly greeting, then turned to his team.

"Who wants to oversee the offload of our cargo?" he asked.

"I'll do it!" Tanith quickly said, causing the others to look at her curiously, "I thought I heard something shake loose when we got hit by that cannon, so I might as well see if something is wrong."

Most of the Blades accepted that, but Ryan still found it odd; even if there was a minor thing wrong, Tanith always chatted with the engineers of the _Tides _before getting to work. As the other Blades walked off to speak to friends, Ryan walked up to Tanith, placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Are you sure there's nothing else that's wrong?"

Turning her head to keep Ryan from seeing the slight blush on her face at the close proximity, Tanith said, "I'm sure, Ryan; I've just got some stuff on my mind, that's all."

Though he doubted that, Ryan didn't press the issue; Tanith could be very private when she wanted to be, and she tended to snap at anyone who pushed too far. It was one of the things about her that had changed during the last six months; unless it had been about her personal life, she had been fairly open and always cheerful. She still had a positive aura about her, but she wasn't as bubbly as she was when they'd first met; it seemed she'd traded that for her lethality in combat… and Ryan didn't know if the trade was worth it.

"If you're sure," Ryan said, "but if you need anything, just ask me, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, he gently squeezed her shoulder before walking away. Tanith took a deep breath before giving the assembled Rebels a slight glare.

"Well? Hurry up and get your guns already!"

…

As he made his way to the shuttle that would take him to the _Blaze of Glory_, Ryan made a slight detour when he saw the commanding officer of the _Tides of Change_, Captain Reval Fibb. Fibb was a Mon Calamari, his wet skin a healthy shade of orange-brown; the Captain gave Ryan a respectful nod. While Fibb was capable of commanding the battlegroup, and indeed, he had more experience than M'zan, he didn't have the same kind of fire that she did, so he requested the position of second-in-command in order to be a calm counterpoint to M'zan's borderline-reckless strategies.

"Hello, Commander," he said in a deep, wet voice, "Where are you headed?"

"Over to the _Blaze_," Ryan told him, "Captain M'zan wants to see me."

Fibb nodded. "Of course. I see you've given us some more supplies; shall I send the bill to Alliance Command, or should I invoice it straight to Mon Mothma herself?"

Ryan grinned. "What do you think?"

A hint of a smile tugged at Fibb's mouth. "Mon Mothma it is, then."

With a wave goodbye, Ryan boarded a waiting shuttle that would take him to the _Blaze_.

…

A short while later, Ryan stepped aboard the Nebulon-B and headed for the bridge, only stopping to say hello to a Rebel, or shake another's hand. Personally, Ryan didn't like being treated like a hero; he felt that if too much attention was paid to him, it would be like painting a bull's-eye on his back.

Still, he tried not to let it get to him as he reached the bridge; in a moment, he'd have a bigger problem than a fear of hero-worship.

Bitters was completely wrong about anything going on between Ryan and M'zan; though she would occasionally flirt, she never meant anything by it, and the two of them had nothing but respect for the other.

The door to the bridge slid open with a slight hiss, and he was given a wide smile, courtesy of Captain Rila M'zan. A Twi'lek in her mid-twenties, M'zan was beautiful even for a species that seemed to be able to attract almost every other race in the galaxy. With crimson skin and black, jagged stripes crisscrossing her two head-tails—known as lekku for her species—she had an exotic look that only accentuated her already impressive assets. She wore a pair of white pants with black boots, a black jacket and a white shirt that was—in Ryan's opinion, purposefully—a size too small.

On top of her head was a peaked Imperial officer's cap; during the beginning of the Rebellion, she had obtained that as a souvenir when she had been the _Blaze_'s first officer. An Imperial boarding party had managed to fight its way to the bridge; during the battle, M'zan's commanding officer was killed, and M'zan had assumed command. After personally leading the defense aboard her ship, she fought and killed the Imperial officer and took his cap as a trophy; to Ryan's knowledge, she never walked out of her quarters without it.

That battle was the first of many; M'zan would go on to lead several brave or even borderline suicidal attacks on Imperial forces, only to emerge victorious every time. She had railed against the Alliance brass, but more specifically, at Mon Mothma, when she had been reprimanded for her actions at Belsavis; while in the system for less than an hour, M'zan and her ship had destroyed six _Tartan_-class cruisers and heavily damaged an _Imperial_-class Star Destroyer before escaping with only minor damage to the _Blaze_.

Two days later, she and her devoted crew had signed on with General Kota and Battlegroup Maverick.

At first, Ryan had thought he was developing feelings for her, but that had been mere physical attraction; besides that, they had several fundamental differences that would have made anything but a platonic relationship impossible. The biggest difference was that Ryan never knowingly went into a battle he couldn't win, but M'zan was the type to see such situations as challenges. M'zan wasn't one to walk away from a challenge.

"Ryan!" M'zan said from her command chair, which she'd swiveled around to face him, "I'm so glad you're back; come with me, we've got a lot to talk about!" she turned to a young female Mirialan, her first officer. "Ren, you have the bridge."

"Aye, ma'am!" Ren said, snapping off a quick salute.

M'zan jumped out of her chair and briskly walked out of the bridge, Ryan dragged behind her by the elbow.

"Ow! Rila, would you stop dragging me?"

M'zan did so, if only to give Ryan a light punch on the arm; Ryan was one of a handful of people who dared to address her by her first name, and the others who did so all outranked her. Still, Ryan was the only one who could get away with it without earning a scowl; M'zan felt that Ryan had earned the right.

"So, what did you get on Mygeeto?" M'zan asked in a businesslike manner, though she had a predatory smile on her face.

"Weapons for your marines, and some medical supplies," Ryan said, then produced a datapad from within his coat, "But I think the best prize was this data we took from the commanding officer's office. Wek decrypted it on the way here; it's got data and shipping manifests for over a dozen targets in the Outer Rim."

M'zan took the datapad and examined its contents; her smile only grew; she glanced at Ryan and gestured for them to keep walking. She kept reading, leaving Ryan to make sure she didn't run into anything.

"You certainly know how to spoil a girl," she said, her eyes never leaving the datapad, "From what I see here, there are at least four high-value targets within a week's distance; is it my birthday?"

"Actually, today is mine," Ryan admitted.

M'zan blinked in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten you something."

"It's not something I've ever really cared about," Ryan told her, then gestured to the datapad, "You might be interested in what's on Malastare."

M'zan reached that part of the data, and she looked up—or rather, down, since she was a good six inches taller—at Ryan in shock.

"An orbital tether?" she said in disbelief; an orbital tether could quickly and easily ferry troops and supplies from the surface of a planet to waiting ships in orbit, or vice versa, without the need for shuttles. They were difficult to build, but invaluable.

"Most of one," Ryan said, "It doesn't really help Maverick, but we could give it to the rest of the Alliance and they could finish building it; I'm sure it would help… if they ever found a base."

"Ryan, if we get this, I could kiss you."

"As pleasant as that sounds, I'd rather you didn't," Ryan said with a hint of a smile, "Rumors are already spreading about us."

"None aboard _my _ship, I'll have you know," M'zan said sharply, and Ryan believed her; the crew of the _Blaze _were completely devoted to their captain, as well as protective. They wouldn't tolerate people saying untrue things about her.

Ryan was about to put in his own two credits on the matter, when M'zan's comm-link went off.

"_Ma'am," _the voice of Ren said, _"we're getting a signal from Alliance Command; it's marked as urgent."_

"Understood," M'zan said, her tone serious, "I'll be there in a moment."

"_Actually, ma'am," _Ren said, _"They're asking for Commander Nimbus, too."_

Ryan and M'zan looked at each other in surprise; no one had ever asked for Ryan before.

_Maybe we'll be getting a real job at last, _Ryan thought, _I hope the others are ready for this._

…

Inside the _Desperate Measures_, Tanith scowled, something she'd been doing a lot lately. It wasn't that she had a lot to scowl about; the Rebels had offloaded the captured supplies without messing with the ship, and she'd found and fixed the panel that had been knocked loose. By all accounts, she should have been content, if not happy.

And yet, she wasn't.

It all boiled down to Captain M'zan, really; in the rational part of Tanith's mind, she knew that Ryan and M'zan weren't in any sort of relationship, but she still couldn't help but feel irritated whenever Ryan was called up to speak to her… alone.

She didn't really have a right to feel this way; it wasn't like she and Ryan were together, but the feeling persisted. Angry, she took a spanner and hurled it across the cargo bay, where it was caught by Sera.

"Gah!" the Mirialan glared at the droid, "Sera, how long have you been there?"

"Approximately thirteen-point-seven minutes," Sera replied, "You have been staring at the bulkhead for longer than that; has it done something to offend you?"

Sometimes, Tanith couldn't tell if the droid was really curious or just trying to get under her skin, but as the only other female—sort of—member of the Outcast Blades, Tanith liked to confide in her.

"No, I'm just annoyed."

"With the Commander?"

"What? No, of course not." In Tanith's mind, Ryan could do no wrong.

"I see," Sera said before sitting across from Tanith, "Then you are upset with Captain M'zan."

"Not really," Tanith said truthfully; the irritation she felt with the Twi'lek wasn't warranted, and she knew it.

"I do not understand," Sera said.

"I'm… not sure that I do, either," Tanith confessed, "I just get annoyed whenever Ryan and M'zan are alone."

Sera was silent for a moment before answering. "I can think of two possibilities for that: first, that you are resentful that Captain M'zan does not include you."

"I'm not resentful about that," Tanith cut in honestly.

Sera nodded. "Then the second possibility is the most likely: you have developed romantic feelings for the Commander, and are experiencing jealousy."

Tanith jumped to her feet. "WHAT!?"

"It is a likely scenario," Sera said calmly, "He gave you a purpose, a ship to work on and—according to comparisons I have made—he is attractive, for a human."

Tanith froze; everything Sera said was a fact. When she had been kicked out of engineering six months ago, she had been devastated; not only had it been her chosen path of life, but after her family's death on Alderaan, it had been one of the few things that brought her joy. Then, just when it felt like her life was over, Ryan showed up and asked her to join a team he was making; not only that, but he wanted her to be the engineer of the team. He had been the first person to accept her, even with her admittedly flighty behavior every once in a while; no one had done that when she had been in the Rebellion. He had then taken the time to train her, and was always dependable; how could she not admire him?

And Sera was right about one other thing: Ryan was handsome.

"You are blushing," Sera observed, jolting Tanith out of her thoughts, "Does this mean that I am correct?"

"I… I don't know… maybe," Tanith said, before going to her quarters.

Sera watched her go, waiting for the sound of her door closing before turning to the empty space behind her.

"You can come out now."

"Dang," Wek said, de-cloaking, but not looking that upset, "I honestly thought that the Commander and M'zan would get together; looks like I owe Bitters fifty creds."

"Your wager may not be over," Sera said, "Tanith has not acted on her feelings yet."

"Good point," Wek said, then asked, "I give it a week before she does something."

"I will accept that wager."

"Huh?" Wek said, looking at the droid.

"You made a wager with Bitters," Sera pointed out, "and now I am making a wager with you; I wager fifty credits that Tanith takes more than one standard week to confess her feelings towards the Commander."

Wek stared in shock, then grinned. "You're on."

…

While Ryan and M'zan had different approaches to combat, they were both similar in many ways. One of those similarities was how they both crossed their arms as they stared at the _Blaze of Glory_'s holocommunicator impatiently.

"They said it was urgent," Ryan muttered, "so why the kriffing hell is it taking so long to contact us?"

M'zan only growled; she was stuck here, waiting, when she could be attacking an Imperial station or doing something, anything, useful.

Finally, the holocommunicator flickered, and the blue hologram of Mon Mothma appeared. This drew scowls from everyone on the bridge; to most of Battlegroup Maverick, the Rebellion's political head was seen as the epitome of cowardice.

Ignoring the rest of the bridge crew, Mon Mothma turned her gaze towards the Captain and the Commander.

"_Captain M'zan," _she said, nodding respectfully, then narrowing her eyes at the mercenary, _"_Commander _Nimbus."_

"Mon Mothma," Ryan said, a smirk on his face, "I trust that Captain Fibb sent you the latest bill?"

Biting back a few choice words, Mon Mothma nodded. _"Yes, I did; rest assured, you will receive your payment soon."_

M'zan allowed herself a satisfied grin; no one could get under Mon Mothma's skin better than Ryan. Still, Mon Mothma wasn't calling just to get annoyed.

"Is there something you need, ma'am?" M'zan asked, though her smile remained.

"_Yes, there is; an hour ago, I received a message from the Queen of Naboo, a secret supporter of the Rebellion. There's a rumor going around that a Jedi is leading a small group of terrorists against the Imperials occupying the planet; obviously, if the Empire decides to take the threat seriously, that Jedi could be hunted down and killed in a matter of hours. I want the Outcast Blades to find the Jedi and get him or her off-world."_

Ryan was impressed; even a single Jedi could turn the tide of a major battle, and the Rebellion had three fully-trained Jedi—Kota had declared Ahsoka a full Jedi Knight a few months earlier—and Luke Skywalker was starting to get the hang of it. Another one could only increase their chances in the long run. Still…

"Naboo is an Imperial world," Ryan pointed out, "how are we supposed to land?"

Now it was Mon Mothma's turn to give a superior smile. _"We had agents bribe a few corrupt Imperial officers to overlook any strange craft entering or leaving the planet for the next standard day. Barring any complications, if you leave within the hour, you can get there, retrieve the Jedi and make it off-world with a few hours to spare."_

Ryan gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Nicely done, Mothma; I didn't know you had it in you."

Ignoring Ryan, Mon Mothma addressed M'zan. _"Captain, we've recently obtained some intelligence on a piece of technology that would be invaluable to the Alliance; there's a nearly-completed orbital tether that we need you to take from an Imperial station…"_

"On Malastare," M'zan finished, much to Mon Mothma's shock; it was with a grin that she explained, "The Outcast Blades found that same intel from one of their raids and brought it to my attention earlier today."

Mon Mothma looked a little deflated, but soon recovered. _"Well then, you have your assignments; I'll be sending more details to your ship… Commander."_

With that, the hologram vanished; Ryan immediately left the bridge, headed to the shuttle that would take him back to the _Tides of Change_, where he would call his team back together. M'zan took it upon herself to see him off; before he reached the shuttle, Ryan turned to face her.

"I know you wanted us to help take the tether…" he began, but stopped when M'zan placed a finger on his lips and winked.

"I know you like a lady to be escorted, but I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself." Removing her finger, she returned to a more professional manner. "Besides, General Kota and his team should be arriving sometime today; we can handle the Malastare job, while you get that Jedi."

Ryan smiled. "Just stay safe, okay?"

To his surprise, M'zan actually wrapped him in a hug; she may have flirted, but this felt like a genuine gesture of affection. He knew that M'zan, though young, had an almost motherly level of protectiveness for anyone who served under her; technically, the Outcast Blades were assigned to serve under the leader of Battlegroup Maverick, so that counted.

"Don't worry about us," she whispered into his ear, "You're the ones headed into an Imperial world with no backup."

Hesitantly, Ryan returned the hug for a few seconds, before letting go; he was about to step into the shuttle when M'zan called out again.

"When you get back, I'll be sure to have a suitable birthday present for you!"

Ryan only waved as the shuttle's doors closed.

…

**The **_**Harvester**_

An imposing figure stepped onto the bridge of the _Harvester_; the officers all stopped what they were doing to stare in fear, before hurrying back to their duties, hoping that the figure didn't see them. With a heavy stride, he approached the thin form of Moff Laar and nodded respectfully.

"_What is it you require, sir?"_

Moff Laar stared out at the void through the viewport for a moment before answering. "I've received word from one of my agents; the ones we seek are headed to Naboo."

"_Are we mobilizing the ships?" _the figure asked in sadistic anticipation.

"No, my friend," the Moff replied, "If a battlegroup such as ours were to arrive so suddenly, our quarry would think that it was a trap, and would flee. Instead, I want you to take a platoon of men in a transport and wait for them to arrive; when you see them… kill them all. Can you handle this?"

"_Of course," _the figure said confidently, _"When he sees me, he will think that a demon has come for him!"_

"Well-said," Laar told him, "Now go, my Durasteel Demon, and bring us the vengeance that we both deserve!"

**You have no idea how fun it is to create all these side-characters. M'zan just feels like a badass, and Fibb seemed like a good counterpoint to her, even if he is dry humor personified (ironic, since he's a fish).**

**So, this chapter was mostly for character-development, and for setting up the next chapter. The Blades will find new friends, new enemies, and a whole lot of trouble for Ryan!**

**Stay tuned for Mavericks, Part 2! Remember to favorite, follow, review or all three!**

**The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Muffin.**


	6. Mavericks, Part 2

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S BELONG TO ME, AS DO ANY EVENTS THAT DO NOT HAPPEN IN ANY OF THE OFFICIAL MEDIA. I OFTEN ASK MYSELF THIS: IF THE EMPEROR DECIDED TO USE THE RESOURCES THAT WERE USED FOR BOTH DEATH STARS FOR SOMETHING ELSE, HOW MANY SUPER STAR DESTOYERS COULD HE HAVE MADE? PROBABLY ENOUGH TO CONQUER THE GALAXY SEVERAL TIMES OVER.**

**I have to admit, this story is really hard to stay away from; creating the motivations for my characters, coming up with the action, it's all so much fun! Anyway, here's a chapter with explosions. Have fun.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 6

Mavericks, Part 2

**The **_**Desperate Measures**_**, en route to Naboo**

"This is a really bad plan, Commander," Wek Vaas said as the Outcast Blades prepared their equipment for their mission; at the moment, Wek himself was fine-tuning the team's cloaking-generators.

"The plan isn't bad," Tanith Tsor said in defense of Ryan's plan, "it's only the whole 'we're going in with no backup' part that I have an issue."

_At least she seems to be doing better, _Ryan thought; after asking to be alone for a while, Tanith had reappeared, almost back to her old, bubbly self. It was a welcome change.

"It does seem to be an unnecessary risk," S3-R4, Sera, added, strapping one last thermal detonator to her belt.

"And there's the fact that Mon Mothma herself asked us to do this," Dirk 'Bitters' Bitterman said as he finished securing his medical supplies, "She hates us!"

Ryan Nimbus, leader of the Outcast Blades, said nothing, focused on oiling his sword's scabbard; he rarely used it, but with a high-risk mission like this one, he wasn't taking any chances.

"Ryan?" Tanith gently prodded Ryan's armored shoulder, "You okay?"

Finally, Ryan looked up at her and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine; I just think that there's something we're missing."

"You think Mon Mothma's setting us up?" Bitters asked, his hands clenched around the hilt of his monster of a vibrosword.

"No, that's not it," Ryan said, "She may not like us, but we do good work, and the other Rebels would have her head if it ever came to light that she had something to do with us dying."

"Then what is it?" Tanith asked; she hadn't seen Ryan this worried in a long time.

"I just think that it's too easy," Ryan admitted, "I mean, being able to bribe enough officers in the Empire to let us land, rescue a Jedi and any of his or her friends, and then take off again? Mon Mothma might not be behind it, but I smell a setup."

"Then why the hell are we still going to Naboo?" Wek asked.

"Because if it is a trap," Ryan said, "they'd have to have bait; I think there really is a Jedi on Naboo, but if I'm wrong, or if it looks like too much, we're bugging out. I'm not losing anyone for a 'maybe'."

The other Blades nodded, feeling somewhat better; Ryan knew that there was a higher risk on this mission than usual, and he was putting their safety before the needs of the mission. He cared about every one of them.

A beep from a console in the cockpit drew their attention; Tanith sat down in the pilot's seat and glanced at said console.

"We'll be dropping out of hyperspace in three… two… now!"

The white of hyperspace changed to the black, star-spattered void that was normal; in front of them was the blue-and-green planet of Naboo, the peaceful image only disrupted by the pair of Star Destroyers in the distance.

"Have they spotted us?" Ryan asked, referring to the Imperial ships.

Tanith looked at the _Desperate Measure_'s instruments. "We're not getting pinged by sensors. In fact, they're not looking at this section of space at all; maybe Mon Mothma really came through for us."

"Had to happen eventually," Bitters remarked.

"Enough of that," Ryan said, putting on his helmet, the seals activating with a hiss, "It's game time."

The rest of the team followed suit, as Tanith guided the ship down to the coordinates the Rebellion had given them.

"Wait a second…" Ryan said, looking at the coordinates again, "Oh, kriffing hell! We're headed right for Theed!"

"Mon Mothma wants us to go to Naboo's capital city!?" Bitters demanded, "Are you sure she isn't trying to get us killed!?"

Ryan was about to tell Tanith to scrub the mission, but then another console beeped; someone wanted to talk to them. Raising an eyebrow behind his helmet, he activated the comms, and a small hologram of a regal-looking woman appeared.

"_Greetings," _the woman said, _"I am Queen Kylantha of Naboo; are you the team sent by Guardian Security?"_

Among the details that Mon Mothma had sent, the Outcast Blades were going to Naboo under a false company name, Guardian Security; they would use the pretense as a way to get through Imperial security.

"We are," Ryan answered, then used their code phrase, "GuardSec is proud to be of service, your Majesty."

Kylantha nodded. _"I shall await your arrival; this is a matter that concerns the safety of my people and thus, I shall give you more details personally."_

With that, she signed off.

"We get to meet royalty?" Tanith said, excitement in her voice, "This is new."

"The rulers of Naboo are not a true monarchy," Sera said, "They are elected for a set term, and their decisions can be overturned by their advisory council."

"Oh," Tanith said, slumping in her chair.

"What do we know about this queen?" Bitters asked.

Wek looked at his computer terminal for a few seconds, then answered. "A short while after the Clone Wars, the previous queen of Naboo was killed by the Empire when she harbored fugitive Jedi that had escaped Order 66. Kylantha was installed as a puppet ruler; she has no real power outside of internal affairs, but while she was put into 'power' by the Empire, and has publicly supported it, her personal opinions have never been known."

"Do you think she's trying to do what her predecessor did?" Ryan asked, "Helping Jedi, I mean?"

Wek shrugged. "Maybe. Everything I've got about her, however, shows that she really does care for her people; she probably just wants the Jedi gone before the Empire cracks down on Naboo even harder."

"Understandable," Ryan said, "she probably remembers what happened last time Naboo stood up against the Empire and doesn't want it to happen again. I can't fault her for that; still, don't let your guard down, guys."

The Blades nodded, grimly checking their gear one more time.

…

**Theed, Capital City of Naboo**

The _Desperate Measures _touched down in the Theed spaceport, right next to a chrome-painted Naboo vessel. Tanith couldn't help but grumble when she compared the rather graceless _Desperate _to the work of art next to them.

"It just makes a shinier target," Ryan consoled her, before slipping into his Commander persona.

The Blades marched out, outwardly calm, but ready to make a fighting retreat back to their ship at a moment's notice. Ryan glanced at the Naboo architecture; it was large, graceful and mostly made of polished stone. It was also fairly defensible, with large columns everywhere; there were worse places to fight, if it came down to that.

"There she is," Wek said, jerking his chin forward.

Approaching them, Queen Kylantha was dressed in flowing red robes, her face painted white with a small stripe of red lipstick on her lower lip. A handful of women in much plainer attire—handmaidens, if Ryan remembered the term correctly—followed behind her.

"A bit overdone for a meeting with a bunch of mercs," Bitters commented.

"Keep it professional," Ryan admonished, even though he felt the same way, "Remember, we're a legitimate security company now."

The other Blades straightened their postures as much as possible—save for Sera, who always looked like she was at attention—in order to keep up the façade. As soon as the Queen was a few meters away, Ryan bowed briefly.

"Your Majesty," he said, "My team and I are grateful for this opportunity to help Naboo in its time of need."

Kylantha nodded. "And I am most grateful for your assistance; now, come with me and I shall explain the situation."

Silently, the Blades followed the Queen and her entourage to a small, but elegant, room; with a wave of her hand, the handmaidens, save for one, left. The Queen then produced a datapad from within her voluminous robes and handed it to Ryan.

"This contains the coordinates of where it is believed the terrorists are hiding," she said, "It also details their attacks over the last two weeks, and has my permission to requisition a bulk-transport speeder to transport the criminals to prison." As if to answer an unasked question, she added, "My people abhor violence; we would prefer that these terrorists be brought in alive, so that they may face proper justice."

What the Blades took that to mean was that the Queen was telling them where the Jedi and his or her allies were, what they were capable of, and a way of getting them all back to Theed, where they could all escape on the _Desperate Measures_.

"Thank you for this generous assistance," Ryan said, bowing again.

"I am merely doing my duty for my people," Kylantha said, "I only hope that you remove this threat before innocent lives are lost."

Translation: get these people the hell out of here, before the Empire starts killing everyone.

With another bow, the Blades turned and left. There was nothing left to discuss; they would find who they were looking for, or they wouldn't, but Ryan was fairly certain that, either way, he'd probably have to shoot someone today.

…

A short while later, a large, cloaked figure peeked over the roof of a building adjacent to the palace and watched as his prey boarded a large transport and took off. He continued to stare until a cough drew his attention to one of the men behind him.

"Sir, why didn't we attack them now?" the soldier asked, "We practically had them dead to rights!"

"_It is simple," _the Demon growled, _"the murderer is going to be coming back with others; he'll want to keep them safe, and that means he'll be slow. Once he's burdened by so many, only then will we strike."_

"Yes, sir."

"_But remember," _the Demon said, a talon-tipped hand gripping the soldier by the shoulder, _"leave the murderer to me; everyone else is fair game. Now tell the others to get into position!"_

…

**Battlegroup Maverick, in Orbit around Tatooine**

Captain Rila M'zan sat in the command chair of the _Blaze of Glory_, outwardly calm, save for constant tapping of her finger against her chin. Her crew, who had known her for years, picked up that she was worried about something. Ren, First Officer of the _Blaze_, finally spoke up.

"Ma'am, is something wrong?"

M'zan smiled fondly at the young Mirialan; Ren was like a little sister to her, and unless they were in combat, she treated her as such.

"Nothing serious, I just don't like it when my people are in a bad situation and I can't do anything about it."

Ren and the other bridge crew nodded, their own expressions turning grim; if their Captain considered anyone 'her people'—in this case, the Outcast Blades—then the crew also considered them family. Normally, the 'family' aboard the _Blaze _was very tight-knit and was never separated, so they were always ready to help one another; in this case, however, they were unable to do anything to help the Blades, and that was unsettling. Still, they had no choice; they were going after an invaluable orbital tether soon, and they needed to focus on the mission.

The sensor officer interrupted their thoughts when he spoke.

"Ma'am! A ship is coming out of hyperspace; I think it's—yes, sensors confirm that it's the _Rogue Shadow_!"

Through the viewport, M'zan saw a brief flash of light, and then the asymmetrical form of the stealth vessel in question arrived, only a kilometer off their bow.

"Ma'am," the communications officer said, "General Kota is requesting that you meet him aboard the _Tides of Change_; he says he'd come to you, but he took a blaster bolt to the leg, and walking is 'damn hard right now'. His words, ma'am."

M'zan normally didn't leave her ship; it was both her domain and her home. Still, General Kota was possibly the only person in the galaxy that she respected as much as Ryan; while he wasn't as fun as Ryan, Kota struck a chord with her, in that both of them were extremely aggressive towards the Empire. While the Outcast Blades were known for taking prizes, Kota and the members of Force Team took the missions that required the absolute annihilation of a target.

Despite knowing that he was hurt, M'zan smiled; if Kota complained about an injury, it meant that he would recover soon.

"Send word to all ships," she said in authoritative voice, "Tell them to warm up their hyperdrives, and set course for Malastare; as soon as I get back, we'll make way."

The communications officer saluted. "Aye, ma'am!"

"Ren, you have the bridge," M'zan said as she left, but threw a smile her First Officer's way, "No parties while I'm gone."

Ren gave a small smile back, used to her Captain's playfulness, "You're the one who likes to throw parties, ma'am, not me!"

The door to the bridge closed, cutting off M'zan's laughter.

…

A few minutes later, M'zan stepped aboard the _Tides of Change_ and returned the salute that Captain Reval Fibb, second-in-command of Battlegroup Maverick, gave her.

"Welcome aboard, Captain," Fibb greeted respectfully, before saying, "I'm surprised you knew how to get off of your ship, considering that you never leave her."

M'zan rolled her eyes, but didn't reply; as much as she liked to tease, Fibb could give it back twofold. Instead, she just grinned and walked past, where she saw Force Team standing next to a wounded Kota, who was being tended to by a medical droid.

_I really should thank Sera for practically giving those droids to the Rebellion, _M'zan thought.

As she approached, a blond, statuesque woman walked away from the group and approached her; before speaking, she threw a crisp salute.

"Captain M'zan," she said in a refined accent, "Force Team has returned and, save for General Kota's injury, completely successful."

M'zan returned the salute and smiled. "At ease, Captain Eclipse; so, I take it the Empire is going to be missing a few turbolaser batteries for its fleet?"

"That is correct, Captain," Juno Eclipse replied formally, "The factory was completely leveled."

"Well done," M'zan said, "I only wish I'd been there to see that place burn; however, I need to speak to General Kota."

Nodding, the ex-Imperial stepped aside and allowed M'zan to get a good look at Force Team; first was its leader, General Kota himself. Despite his age and blindness, the Jedi Master was fit and more than willing to step onto the front lines, something that M'zan could appreciate. Unlike most of Force Team, however, he usually planned operations in detail, which was why he was in charge.

Captain Eclipse was also a part of Force Team, though she was only the pilot, and would send sensor-readings to the people on the ground. Before joining Battlegroup Maverick, she had been the commanding officer of the _Salvation_, a Nebulon-B Frigate, just like the _Blaze_; during the battle of Kamino, however, she had lost her ship, and a good portion of its crew. Despite the success of that battle, Eclipse had been reprimanded by Alliance Command for the loss of so many lives and barred from ever commanding a vessel again; after she had become the commanding officer of Maverick, M'zan had rescinded that order.

The next member of the team was the Jedi who had brought Ryan to the Rebellion, for which M'zan would always be grateful, Ahsoka Tano. After Kota had made her a full Jedi Knight, the Togrutan woman had taken it upon herself to start training Luke Skywalker, and the two had become quite close; Luke had even called her 'Aunt 'Soka' on occasion. Unfortunately, that had changed when Ahsoka had joined Kota in calling for more aggressive tactics against the Empire; she had become a part of Maverick, and while she missed her 'nephew', she was happy when she actually got to do something productive.

The only stealth-capable member of Force Team was a droid named PROXY. He had been built as a training droid, programmed with the lightsaber-skills of dozens of Jedi; he was built to take a massive amount of punishment, and could project holograms of hundreds of different people around himself. He could also use himself as a mobile holocommunicator, allowing someone to appear as if they were actually in the room.

The final member of Force Team was the man who was responsible for bringing together the founders of the Rebellion together in the first place: Galen Marek, more commonly known as Starkiller, the ex-apprentice of Darth Vader himself. A young man with a handsome, if scarred, face with a closely-shaven haircut, Starkiller wore armor similar to Kota's, but minus the combat robe, and had a barbaric-looking lightsaber on his belt. From what M'zan had heard, Galen was one of the most powerful Force-users to have ever existed; during the battle of Kamino two years ago, he had effortlessly thrown starships out of his way.

Every member of Force Team had done something remarkable for the Rebellion, and M'zan was ashamed to be linked in any way to the people who refused to not only acknowledge their actions, but refused to allow them to do more. Well, she made it up to them by encouraging what they did, so that made her feel better.

"Captain M'zan," Kota said from his seat on the floor, "I expected to see the _Desperate Measures _around here; don't tell me we beat the Blades back?"

"Actually, they got here several hours before you did, and left for another mission soon afterwards," M'zan replied.

Normally, this would cause Ahsoka, Starkiller and even occasionally Kota to give a mock-pout, due to their friendly rivalry with Ryan's team. This time, much to M'zan's unease, the members of Force Team looked worried; even the emotionless face of PROXY was tilted in concern.

"Then it wasn't a vision of what is happening now," Starkiller said to Ahsoka in his normally low voice, "It was a vision of what was going to happen!"

"What are you talking about?" M'zan asked.

"On our way back, the Force granted me a vision," Ahsoka explained, "I saw the Outcast Blades being attacked by a large figure in all black; I saw him raise a hand to kill Ryan, and then the vision ended."

M'zan felt a spike of fear; she had seen enough of what a Jedi could do that she didn't doubt what Ahsoka said.

"Was the figure…?" M'zan asked uncertainly, "Was it Darth Vader?"

"I don't think so," Ahsoka said, "but I know that the Blades are in danger; where were they headed?"

"Naboo," M'zan replied, "Mon Mothma sent them on a mission to rescue a Jedi that was supposedly there."

Kota shook his head. "If there was even a rumor of a Jedi, the Emperor would have had the planet overrun with Stormtroopers by now; it's almost certainly a trap!"

_And I had the chance to talk Ryan out of it, but I didn't, _M'zan thought guiltily, before standing tall.

"We have to get them out of there!"

Captain Fibb, who had been listening silently until now, took the opportunity to speak. "Captain, our mission is to obtain the orbital tether."

M'zan knew that Fibb was only pointing out all the facts—he was just as fond of the Outcast Blades as she was—but that didn't stop her from giving her second-in-command a glare.

"The data Ryan gave us showed that it's not going anywhere; we can get it after we rescue the Blades. And let me make one thing perfectly clear," she said, raising her voice until the entire hangar echoed, "We are getting our people back!"

The pilots and crewmen in the hangar cheered in support; once it died down, M'zan reached for her comlink.

"Ren, send a new order for all ships; tell them to change their destinations to Naboo!"

"_Ma'am?" _Ren asked, confused.

"I was right," M'zan said, "The Outcast Blades need backup, and by the Force, we're going to give it to them!"

"_Aye, ma'am!" _Ren said, determination in her voice; she was as protective of her friends as M'zan was, which was why the two got along so well.

"Captain Fibb," M'zan said evenly, "I'll need a ride back to my ship."

"Of course, Captain," Fibb said, "I'll be sure to draw up a strategy for you."

"What makes you think I don't already have a strategy of my own?" M'zan asked.

If Fibb's species had eyebrows, one of his would have been raised. "All due respect, but your plans are usually just 'fly in and blow them up'."

M'zan opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again; it was a valid point.

Still, if Ahsoka's vision came true, and Ryan died, that would be it for her; she wouldn't stop attacking the Empire until either it was reduced to dust… or _she_ was.

…

**Naboo, the Swamplands outside of Theed**

"Remember that raid we pulled on Raxus Prime?" Ryan asked as the Outcast Blades waded through the swamp.

"Yeah, we found those torpedoes there," Tanith said, wiping off a vine that had fallen onto her shoulder, "I also remember you saying that you hated junkyards more than anything else… every five seconds."

"Well, I changed my mind," Ryan said, "I hate _swamps_ more than anything else!"

Ryan wasn't the only one; every one of the Blades now had muck all the way up to their shins, and Ryan himself had needed to shed his beloved coat and leave it in the speeder, or risk it catching on something.

It had taken about an hour to familiarize themselves with the tactics used by the Jedi's terrorists. They weren't really terrorists in the usual sense, though; they kept collateral damage to a minimum, and only targeted the Imperial forces that were stationed across Naboo. As far as the records went, no civilian had been hurt in the attacks, and the attacks themselves were handled with military precision.

The Jedi, however, had never been seen, but there were a few anomalies in some of the attacks; the reports showed that those attacks only succeeded because a part of the Imperial defense had been sabotaged. The odd thing about that was that there should have been no way for anyone to get close enough to sabotage those defenses, unless they were invisible.

Ryan had suggested that maybe someone had a personal cloaking-generator, like the ones they used, but Wek had dismissed that notion. He had said that the only way for that kind of act to work was if the user was invisible the entire time, even during an attack; cloaking-generators couldn't handle that kind of stress.

Now, the Outcast Blades were wading through the deepest part of a stinking swamp, looking for someone that might not even be here.

"Why did we even take this job again?" Bitters asked, "I mean, I don't know if this is worth Mon Mothma paying us."

"This might be my fault," Ryan confessed, "I remembered you guys saying that our raids were kind of boring, and if we get bored, we might get killed."

"So this is, what, to keep us sharp?" Tanith asked, her eyes narrowed in annoyance behind her helmet.

"Kind of," Ryan admitted, much to the irritation of his teammates, "but I've got a feeling about this…"

_Snap-hiss! _Ryan suddenly found a red lightsaber blade hovering at his throat.

"Job," Ryan finished, as the owner of the blade materialized in front of them.

She was a Zabrak, a near-human species, identical in all ways to humans save for the rows of short, but sharp horns that poked out of her forehead and hair. Her skin was pale; she wore tight-fitting black pants, boots and sleeveless shirt. In one hand was her red _shoto _saber—like Ahsoka's shorter yellow lightsaber—while another one was sitting deactivated in her other hand.

"Well, looks like the Empire has sent another assassin after me," she said, looking down at Ryan.

_Why is every woman I meet taller than me? _Ryan idly wondered.

Behind the Jedi—who else could she be?—two-dozen armored figures appeared and raised their weapons; Ryan recognized most as old Clone Wars-era tech. Since the soldiers were all the same height, he deduced that they were clones themselves; Ryan had heard of clone soldiers who had refused to kill their Jedi commanders after Order 66 was issued, but he never found out what happened to them.

It seemed that some of them made their way here.

"We're not Imperials," Ryan said as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, you're only bounty hunters, hired by the Empire!" one clone accused sarcastically, "That makes it all better!"

"It's true!" Tanith said, making sure to keep her hands away from her weapons, "We were asked by the Rebel Alliance to find you and get you off this planet!"

Some of the clones looked at each other; Ryan realized that, if the mishmash of paint on their armor was anything to go by, most of these clones must have been in different units when they deserted.

The Jedi looked into Ryan's visor, as if searching for something; finally, she lowered her lightsaber.

"You're telling the truth," she announced, much to Ryan's relief.

"Ma'am, are you sure?" one clone asked; he wore white armor with blue highlights, an extra-large pauldron on his shoulder and a _kama_, a skirt that only covered the back of the legs. From what Ryan remembered about the old clone army, that meant he was an ARC captain, one of the best.

The Jedi nodded. "These five mean for us to escape, and perhaps fight another day; I suggest we take it, Rex."

The name was familiar to Ryan, but he couldn't figure out why. "So, is this everyone, or are there more of you?"

The Jedi placed her lightsabers on her belt and jerked a thumb behind her. "There are a few more; some are sick or injured, the rest are to guard them."

"I'm a medic," Bitters stepped forward, "I can take a look at them."

The Jedi gave a small smile of appreciation. "Thank you. I don't believe I've introduced myself; I am Maris Brood."

Ryan gestured to his team. "We're the Outcast Blades."

…

After the introductions had been made, Maris guided the Blades to the camp that she and the clones had been using. Without asking for permission from Ryan—he would have given it anyway—Bitters made his way to a tent that had several coughing or moaning clones. While the medic worked on the organic part of the situation, Tanith, Wek and Sera volunteered their services in repairing armor, weapons or any other equipment. That left Ryan with Maris and the ARC captain, Rex.

"Why are you here on Naboo?" Ryan asked.

"It wasn't by choice," Rex explained, "Our ship was old, and we ended up crashing here; we figured that, since the Imperials were here too, we'd do as much damage as we could before they got us. "

Before Ryan could voice his own opinions on last stands, Maris spoke. "Rex and his troopers found me on Felucia a little over a year ago; it's thanks to them that I was able to free myself of the corruption of that planet."

"Well, I've got good news for you," Ryan said, leaning against a stump, "You're not the last Jedi."

Maris' eyes lit up, and Rex stood a little straighter. "Really? Who else is left?"

"Master Rahm Kota, for one," Ryan said, "And then there's Galen, you can't miss him; if it's Imperial and he's within half a kilometer of it, expect it to explode. We've also got Ahsoka…"

"Ahsoka!?" Rex interrupted, "Togrutan, good pilot, two lightsabers?"

"Yeah, how did…" then it clicked in Ryan's mind, "Wait, you're _that _Rex!? Kriffing hell, what are the odds? Ahsoka's told me stories about you!"

Rex laughed. "Small galaxy, isn't it?"

Ryan had to agree; though Ahsoka had become a Padawan during a time of war, she had often spoken of the clone soldiers she'd served alongside with fondness. Rex, however, was talked about the most; Ahsoka had often said that, aside from Anakin Skywalker, there was no one else she'd have watching her back.

Now, Ryan had one more reason to get these people out of here.

…

**Battlegroup Maverick, en route to Naboo**

"Ma'am, there's a holocall coming in from Alliance Command," the _Blaze of Glory_'s communications officer announced.

Captain M'zan sighed; she had a feeling that this was going to happen.

"Patch it through."

A blue hologram of Mon Mothma flickered into existence, then glared at M'zan.

"_Captain, I expected word of your arrival at Malastare an hour ago," _she said, _"Would you kindly explain what the problem is?"_

Not in the mood to put up with Mon Mothma, M'zan cut right to the chase. "We're headed to Naboo for a rescue mission."

"_I sent the Outcast Blades to Naboo," _Mon Mothma said, confused, _"Why in the galaxy would you divert your entire battlegroup there?"_

"According to our Jedi," M'zan answered, "if we don't get there soon, not only will the Blades' mission fail, but their commander will die."

That was stretching the truth a bit, but M'zan wanted to emphasize how important saving the Blades was.

"_Please, Captain, look at this rationally," _Mon Mothma pleaded, _"The rescue and recruitment of the Jedi on Naboo would be a boon, but isn't necessary; that orbital tether, on the other hand, is _vital_! Please, return to your mission, I…"_

With a savage gesture from M'zan, the comms-officer disconnected the transmission.

"Any objections to our current course?" M'zan asked the bridge crew.

"Mon Mothma can't really object," Ren said, "After all, everything she's done has been to 'preserve lives'."

M'zan grinned. "Well-said. Send word to all ships: as soon as we exit hyperspace, be prepared to open fire. What's our ETA to the Naboo system?"

"Twenty minutes, ma'am!" helm control responded.

"As soon as we enter the edge of the system, make contact with the Outcast Blades," M'zan said, leaning back into her chair, "They need to get the hell out of there."

…

**Naboo, 20 Minutes Later**

"Commander, we are receiving a transmission," Sera said, handing a holocommunicator to Ryan; when Ryan activated it, he was surprised to see M'zan's hologram.

"Captain? What are you doing here?" normally, a ship couldn't contact a personal holocommunicator unless they were in-system.

"_Ryan, we have a problem," _M'zan said, her usual friendliness gone, _"Force Team came back, and they told me that you need to get out of there right kriffing now!"_

Immediately, Ryan tensed up; he trusted the Jedi on Force Team with his life, and if they said he was in danger, than he was going to run like hell.

"Acknowledged," he said, "I'll get everyone out of here ASAP; keep in mind, there are two Star Destroyers around the planet."

"_Understood; we'll try to keep the Imps off of you up here," _M'zan said, _"but you need to hurry; aside from the General, most of Force Team will be heading down there to give you a hand."_

Ryan nodded, then turned off the holocom. Gone was his positive mood; now it was serious.

"Listen up!" he yelled through his helmet's speakers, "I've got word from our friends in space that we're going to have trouble if we don't get our asses moving! I want two people for every sick or wounded and get them out of here; Blade Four, have you got any stims that'll get any of those men moving, at least for an hour?"

Bitters nodded grimly, then pulled a few vials out of his medkit and began injecting their contents into a few of the downed clones; hopefully, it would be enough.

"Blade Two," Ryan continued, "take Blade Three and head to the bulk speeder; see if you can meet us halfway, and be ready for a quick pickup!"

Tanith nodded and Wek saluted, then they both ran off; Wek's tracking skills would get them through the swamp fast, and Tanith's piloting skills would be invaluable.

"Blade Five, if there's anything that needs to be moved and can't be left behind, take a few of the clones and get to it!"

Sera nodded, then pointed to a handful of clones; together, they began moving the medical equipment that was necessary to keep the injured alive. Ryan turned to Rex.

"Captain, I'm sorry about taking command, but we need to get out of here."

Rex nodded. "I understand, Commander; whatever gets us out of here faster."

Maris took this time to speak up. "What can I do to help, Commander?"

Ryan hesitated for a moment. "Anything you can do to clear us a path would be great."

Maris immediately turned and ran ahead of the rest of the clones, taking out both of her _shoto _sabers—one red, one blue—and began hacking down tree branches and thick vines, creating a rough path.

Satisfied, Ryan moved to help a limping clone; no one was going to be left behind on his watch.

…

**Naboo Orbit**

Battlegroup Maverick wasted no time in getting to work; the moment they were within range, they began locking weapons on the two Star Destroyers. Despite the threat to her friends, Captain M'zan had a feral smile on her face as she straightened her stolen Imperial cap; this was what she lived for.

"Helm, bring us about," she commanded, "I want our port side and every gun on it trained at the left SD. Comms, any word from the _Tides_?"

"Aye, ma'am," the comms-officer said, "Captain Fibb reports all weapons are ready to target the right SD, and fighters are ready to launch."

"And our escorts?"

"Both Corvettes and Missile Gunships are prepared to engage on your order, ma'am."

"Excellent," M'zan stared at the target she'd chosen for the _Blaze _to engage, an almost hungry look on her face, "Those SD's are _Acclamator_-Class. They've got less guns than most; they're built for occupation and troop-transport, not void warfare, so we've got the advantage. Attention all ships: begin the attack! _Rogue Shadow_, wait three minutes after the first shots are fired, at which point you will be cleared to move to the surface."

"_Copy that, Captain; good hunting,_" the voice of Juno Eclipse said, and was soon followed by affirmatives from all of the other commanders.

"All ships, you are cleared to engage!" M'zan shouted, and felt a slight jolt as the _Blaze of Glory _accelerated to combat speed.

As soon as they closed to within firing-distance, the _Blaze _turned starboard, presenting her port side to the target Star Destroyer, and opening fire; the Missile Gunship _Brave _added a barrage of torpedoes to the broadside before peeling off to take cover behind the larger ship's shields.

The _Tides of Change_, one of the only Rebel capital ships capable of going toe-to-toe with most Star Destroyers, deployed her squadrons of X-Wing fighters and Y-Wing bombers, before hammering her opponent with turbolasers, torpedoes and ion cannons.

Surprised by the Rebels' daring attack, neither Star Destroyer had fully readied their weapons, and so was only able to send a few turbolaser shots at their opponents. When the broadside hit, the Imperial vessels' ray shields held under the energy weapons; the torpedoes and ion weapons, however, were another story.

Explosions covered the center of both vessels; the one the _Tides _had attacked lost its shield-generator, and was now exposed to further attacks.

M'zan jumped out her chair and roared, "All ships, target the right SD! Hit her with everything you've got!"

Though the other, less-damaged _Acclamator _tried to defend her sister ship, but it was too late; Y-Wing bombers flew just over the spine of the other one, delivering their payload before pulling up, covered by X-Wings and the Corvettes. The finishing blow was delivered by the _Blaze _herself, a single turbolaser shot that ruptured her power core; a few seconds later, the vessel exploded, and M'zan's bridge erupted with cheers.

Though feeling triumphant at drawing first blood, M'zan was grateful that they were only facing _Acclamators_; they were older models, made at the end of the Clone Wars, and were slowly being phased out by the _Imperial_-Class and the newer—and deadlier—_Imperial II_-Class. If they had been facing a pair of the former, she wouldn't have been so forward in her attack, and if it was a pair of the latter, she'd have reconsidered attacking at all.

Still, she wasn't one to look a gift-Bantha in the mouth. "_Rogue Shadow_, I know it's been less than three minutes, but I'd say that you're well and truly covered."

"_Copy that, Captain," _Juno said, _"Be advised: that other _Acclamator _will have sent out a distress-call by now; expect Imperial reinforcements to arrive within half a standard hour."_

"Then you've got that long to get the Outcast Blades out of there," M'zan said calmly, "I don't care if their mission is complete or not; tell Starkiller to drag them back if he has to!"

"_Understood," _Juno said, amused at the thought of Galen doing just that, _"we'll be back soon; _Rogue Shadow_, out."_

Satisfied that the operation was underway, M'zan returned her attention to the battle, where she saw the remaining Star Destroyer trying to limp away.

"Oh, you're not escaping from me; all bombers, go for their engines! Gunnery: target the bridge."

…

"Blade Two, where's our ride!?" Ryan demanded as he, Bitters, Sera, Maris and the clones ran across the swamp.

"_Sorry, Lead, we got stuck for a minute," _Tanith said a moment later, _"ETA is four minutes."_

"Make it two!" Ryan shouted, before cutting the link; he normally didn't snap like that, especially at Tanith, but Bitters had just told him that if the injured clones didn't receive proper treatment in a sterile environment, they wouldn't last an hour.

"Commander, how are we going to get past the Imperial security forces in Theed?" Sera asked as they ran.

"At the moment, I'm thinking we should just blow through them," Ryan said, "Stealth is no longer an option; hopefully we'll be able to make it pretty close to the spaceport before they stop us."

"Understood."

"That's your plan?" Rex demanded as he caught up to them; even Maris, who had been remarkably calm so far, looked incredulous.

"I'm counting on the fact that they'll be more concerned with the battle in space than a pack of mercs," Ryan said, "but if you've got a better idea, I'm all ears!"

No one did, so they kept running until Ryan heard the humming of a transport's engines; he reached for his comms again.

"Blade Two, please tell me you're close."

"_You might want to hit the ground," _Tanith said tersely, _"Right now!"_

"Down!" Ryan fell to a prone position, as did everyone else. With a crash, the transport smashed through a pair of small trees, its momentum actually carrying it right over them, finally stopping a few meters behind them.

Everyone got to their feet as the doors opened and Wek waved. "Come on, the meter's running!"

Though it was a little cramped, everyone fit inside; after retrieving his coat, Ryan made his way to the front of the transport, where he saw Tanith preparing to head back to Theed.

"I swear, if we weren't in a hurry, I'd be more than a little annoyed that you almost killed us."

Tanith had removed her helmet, allowing Ryan a good view of her face as she looked up at him and winked.

"Ha! You love me and you know it."

"Just punch it," Ryan said, sitting next to her, "… and thanks."

…

The ride back to Theed was uneventful, and that time was used to try to give the sick and injured further care; that changed when they entered the city's limits. A small team of Stormtroopers tried to stop the oncoming speeder, but only one was fast enough to get away; the others were splattered across the street.

"Oh, gross!" Tanith cried out, "That's just typical; we can't keep anything nice without getting it completely covered in… oh, that's just sick!"

"We're not keeping the transport," Ryan said, though after seeing the remains on the front of the thing, he didn't _want_ to keep it, "Besides, there wouldn't be room for anything else."

Tanith only huffed.

The next few minutes were spent navigating the city streets, avoiding Imperial patrols when they could, and barreling through them when they couldn't. Finally, after dodging yet another patrol, the spaceport was within sight.

"And you said that we'd have a problem," Tanith said, smiling.

Before Ryan could reply, an impact rocked the back of the transport, flipping them into the air, then crashing into the ground. The last thing Ryan saw was Tanith reaching out for him, and then everything went black.

…

"Come on, Juno!" Ahsoka said impatiently, "We've got to get down there!"

"Unless you and Galen want to drop out of the ship from half a kilometer up," Juno Eclipse said, annoyed with the Togrutan, "You're going to have to wait until I find a safer spot."

Ahsoka was about to reply when she felt an insistent nudge in the back of her mind; she had been a Jedi long enough to know that the Force was telling her to get moving. From the expression on Starkiller's face, he was getting the same feeling.

Juno looked at the two Force-users, and realized that they were considering her jumping option. "Oh, no you don't…"

"Sorry, Juno, but we can't wait." Ahsoka hit the button on the _Rogue Shadow_'s console, opening the ramp and running for it.

Juno glared at Galen, who only shrugged before kissing her.

"I have to let the Force guide me," he said, then ran after Ahsoka; PROXY stayed behind and glanced at Juno.

"I'm glad that you've gotten the Master to open up more," the droid said, "he was certainly never this serene with his choices when I was programmed to kill him."

Juno didn't have a response to that; instead, she focused on steadying the ship, though she made a mental note to remind Galen that he should listen to his wife as well as the Force.

…

Ryan groaned as he regained consciousness, then tried to get to his feet; all around him, the clones, Maris and the Outcast Blades were recovering. Somehow, Ryan had survived getting thrown almost twenty meters away from the crash-site; the shock-absorbers in his armor were a wonderful thing.

"Sound off!" he shouted, "Is everyone all right?"

"I just did a head-count," Rex said, "all of my men are alive, but some are in a bad way."

Ryan nodded. "Blades, status?"

"Blade Five here; minor damage sustained, but I am still functional."

"Blade Four here; Blade Three crashed into me, but I'm good."

"Blade Three; I hit Blade Four, but I'm somehow okay."

Ryan waited for Tanith's report, but nothing came. "Blade Two, status? Blade Two, respond!"

After not getting an answer, Ryan made his way back to the transport; remembering that Tanith had been in the cockpit, he started there. She hadn't been thrown far, only a meter away, but she was lying face-down… and she wasn't moving.

"Tanith!" Ryan ran up to her, praying to the Force that she was alive; he gently turned her over and found that she was still breathing, but unconscious, and a trickle of blood ran from a small gash on the right side of her forehead. Without her helmet, she was lucky that the damage hadn't been worse.

"Medic!"

Bitters came running, sliding to a stop once he reached them; he began scanning her, then applied a bacta patch to her head.

"She's got a concussion and a fractured arm," he said, "Fortunately, the bleeding wasn't bad; she'll make it."

Ryan heaved a sigh of relief; though he was close to all of the Blades, Tanith had been the first one to join, and he trusted her with his life. He couldn't imagine the galaxy without her in it.

_I've really got to tell her that one of these days, _Ryan thought, before seeing something approaching out of the corner of his eye; he ducked, and the blaster bolt just barely missed his helmet.

"Take cover!" he yelled; the clones crouched behind the ruined transport, while Maris deflected incoming fire with her lightsabers.

"Five on the roof!" Wek yelled, before firing his sniper rifle, "Make that four!"

"Nine behind us!" Sera shouted, opening up with the rapid-fire mode of her cannon, "Targets have taken cover; one glancing hit, but still functional."

_That can't be right, _Ryan thought; Stormtrooper armor was so weak that even a glancing hit from Sera's weapon would tear a trooper in half. What the hell were they facing?

"Commander, six headed right at us!" Rex shouted, firing both of his blaster pistols, "Get into cover!"

Ryan pulled out both his pistol and his carbine, laying down fire until Bitters picked up Tanith and moved her to a safer position; Ryan started to back up, when his boot hit something. Sparing a second to look down, he saw that it was Tanith's helmet.

"Four! Put this on Two!" Ryan kicked the helmet to Bitters, who caught it and placed it on Tanith's head; now she had a chance if one of these guys tried to go for a headshot.

"Five, switch to HE rounds! Three, call out targets for the clones! Four, I want you focused on the wounded! Maris, I want you on defense! Everyone else: kill these kriffing freaks!"

Finally, Ryan caught one of the enemies in the open, hitting him with a dozen of blaster bolts and killing him. Seeing how tough these guys were, he activated the mini-rocket launcher on his right gauntlet and fired two of his twelve rockets; one hit dead-center of a trooper, blowing him to pieces and killing the man next to him from the explosion. The second rocket landed behind another trooper and exploded, sending him flying towards Ryan; quickly, he dropped his carbine and drew his _beskad_, the monomolecular-edged blade slicing the man in half at the waist.

Explosions behind him told Ryan that Sera was using the explosive shots from her cannon; from the screams of pain, they were very effective. Wek had to use up a power pack's worth of high-powered shots, but he took out the troops on the roof, and the clones had finished taking out the others with volleys of fire; finally, the streets were silent.

Though victorious, there were still casualties on the Blades' side; five of the clones were dead, and another ten were badly wounded, not to mention those who were already hurt, Tanith included. Thinking about it made Ryan's blood boil.

"Time to get some answers," he growled as he marched up to one of the enemies' bodies and dragged it to the others.

"Anyone recognize this armor?" he asked; the dead man had dark-gray armor with a single white stripe going diagonally across his chestplate.

"Not sure," Wek said, the usual source of intel for the Blades, "I'll have to do some digging."

"We'll figure it out later," Ryan said, "For now, let's gather the wounded and make our way to the spaceport; hopefully, we can…"

"Commander, behind you!" Rex pointed, and Ryan spun, drawing the carbine that he'd dropped during the fight, but had recovered.

There, standing in the center of the street, was a tall, imposing man; every inch of him was covered in black durasteel. His fingers ended in talons and an underslung blaster was mounted to each arm, and his boots had three curved spikes, like an animal; over his right shoulder rested a large, four-barreled rotary cannon, a six-inch spike mounted on the outside of each barrel.

But it was his helmet that was the most terrifying; designed to look like a monstrous skull, two large, angular horns sprouted from each side and jutted forwards. The eyes glowed red and seemed to promise nothing but death.

The man took a single step forward, then pointed a talon at Ryan.

"_Murderer."_

"Do I know you?" Ryan called out.

"_You know me," _the man confirmed, _"but you have never seen me in this form. I am the Durasteel Demon!"_

"Durasteel Demon," Ryan repeated sardonically, "Yeah, I think I'd remember someone with as stupid a name as you."

Behind Ryan, one of the clones began moving to a better position, in case he needed to take a shot; the durasteel-encased man didn't move, save for his cannon, which shifted over to his left shoulder and fired all four barrels at once. The clone's torso was obliterated; only his limbs and head hit the ground.

Ryan drew his pistol alongside his carbine and gritted his teeth. "You'll pay for that!"

"_You're the only one paying today,"_ the Demon said, _"For what you did to me!"_

Before Ryan could retort, the sound of approaching footsteps made him turn; on all sides, dozens of Stormtroopers were running at them. In the shape they were in, the Blades, Maris and the clones would be overrun within minutes.

"_Let your fellow traitors to the Empire fight with the Stormtroopers," _the Demon said, _"I want _you _all to myself."_

Then the Demon crouched low, and _changed_; his legs bent backwards, and his arms extended, as did the talons. The cannon was pulled back by a series of flat plates that became a long tail which arced over his head, the cannon acting as the tip; and finally, the lower jaw of the Demon's mask unhinged itself, extending a row of long fangs.

With a monstrous howl, the Demon leaped at Ryan, who was too stunned to react in time; the Demon wrapped his metal jaws around Ryan's arm and dragged him down an alley. Maris tried to follow, but her way was blocked by Stormtroopers.

_I'm starting to think that staying on Felucia might not have been so bad, _she thought, just as the Imperials opened fire.

…

Ryan struggled in vain to get out of the Demon's jaws; desperate, he used his flamethrower at point-blank. That seemed to do something, because the Demon stopped and spat him out; Ryan got to his feet and drew his sword with his right hand and his pistol with his left.

"Who the hell are you?" Ryan demanded.

"_Let me give you a hint," _the Demon hissed, _"TK-8993."_

Ryan froze as the memory clicked into place. "Grif? It that… is that really you?"

"_This is what _you _did to me!" _the Demon roared, _"Because of what you and that Jedi scum did, Grif died, and I was born! Now, Lieutenant Raff's kin, Moff Laar, has given me the means to get my revenge!"_

"I don't remember you talking this much," Ryan sniped, though inwardly, he was recoiling at what had happened to the one person in the Empire that he had almost called a friend.

Instead of replying, the Demon roared again and lunged at Ryan; the mercenary ran forward, then slid on his knees, avoiding the cyborg. He jumped up and spun around, but was blown backward by the Demon's tail-cannon; it had tracked him and fired without the Demon even looking at him.

Ryan fell to the ground, his chest on fire; if he hadn't been wearing _beskar _armor, he'd be dead. Wincing, he forced himself to stand; at that point, all he could do was hope that everyone else made it out alive.

He wasn't sure if _he _would.

…

"Keep firing!" Rex yelled, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt, then sending one of his own at the offending Stormtrooper. "Give it all you've got!"

Despite the extra experience and training they possessed, the clones and their allies were getting overwhelmed by sheer numbers. No one was unhurt; even Maris, for all her skill at avoiding and deflecting blaster-fire, was sporting several burns from near-misses.

Still, they were giving a good account for themselves; Rex had lost count, but he estimated that they had killed at least fifty Stormtroopers so far. The only problem was that they still had about two-hundred more to go.

The only one who wasn't fighting was the Outcast Blades' medic, the one called Blade Four; he was so focused on keeping everyone alive that he even ignored the occasional blaster bolt that struck his armor. However, he paused to listen to something on his comms.

"Everyone, take cover!" the medic roared, not even needing the speakers on his helmet to be heard, his voice was so loud, "Starkiller is inbound!"

From the way the Blades scrambled for cover, and the look of absolute fear on Maris' face, this 'Starkiller' was not something to be taken lightly. Rex quickly directed the surviving clones hid behind the remains of the transport; the ARC captain poked his head out just in time to see a young man jump an impossible distance over their heads—he had to be a Jedi!—and land in the middle of a large group of Stormtroopers. The man then seemed to hover a meter in the air, drew in his arms and legs and, with a roar, opened them, unleashing a massive blast of Force-energy that not only sent the Stormtroopers flying, it _disintegrated _them!

"I've seen it a dozen times," the Nautolan—Blade Three, if Rex recalled—looked on in awe, "And I still can't believe it."

Seeing the incredible demonstration of power, the remaining Stormtroopers paused, but that was a mistake; Starkiller drew his lightsaber and activated it, holding the blue blade in a reverse-grip, then sent a wave of Force Lightning from his free hand, killing a dozen troopers before charging at the rest.

That still left several dozen Stormtroopers free to target Rex and the others; before they could react, another Jedi was among them, slashing them apart with an emerald blade and a shorter, yellow one.

It had been years since Rex had seen her, but he'd know Ahsoka's style of fighting anywhere; without a word to anyone else, he charged the Stormtroopers, killing any that weren't brought down by the Jedi.

"Good to see you again, kid!" Rex said as he kicked one of the last Stormtroopers into the path of Ahsoka's _shoto_.

Once the troopers were dead, Ahsoka turned to look at Rex with narrowed eyes; she took in the armor, and then his aura in the Force, before gasping.

"Rex!?"

"In the replicated flesh," Rex said, smiling underneath his helmet, "It's good to see you again."

Ahsoka smiled, tears of joy threatening to fall down her face. "Likewise, Rex; I've missed you."

"Hey, Ahsoka!" Starkiller yelled, even as he threw a handful of troopers fifty meters into the air, then decapitated another, "We've got work to do!"

Ahsoka shook her head. "Always knows how to ruin the moment… hey, Rex, where's Ryan?"

"Who?"

"The Blades' Commander!"

"He got dragged off that way," Rex said, pointing in the direction he'd last seen the mercenary, "by some armored freak calling himself the Durasteel Demon."

Ahsoka's eyes went wide. "Starkiller, we've got to go! Wek, get everyone to the _Desperate_!"

Starkiller nodded, taking a moment to finish off another Stormtrooper and then look at a fearful Maris Brood. "We'll talk about what happened between us later."

Maris nodded, and the other two Jedi ran off; quickly shaking her head, Maris returned to the task of eliminating the last handful of Stormtroopers. She only hoped that Starkiller was just as merciful with her as he was the last time.

…

Ryan rolled, barely avoiding another blast from Grif's—the Demon's, he had to remind himself—tail-cannon. He sent his last mini-rocket at him, but aside from blowing off a few shards of metal, did no damage, just like every other time.

Even at Ryan's best, he knew that he was outclassed; the Demon was faster, tougher and stronger. Still, Ryan was able to figure out the Demon's attack-pattern fairly quickly, so he was still smarter; that was poor comfort, however, since even if he could tell where an attack was coming from, he was exhausted, which meant that sooner or later, he'd get hit.

Just as Ryan expected, the Demon lunged again, but this time, Ryan wasn't fast enough; he was pinned to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. With a snarl, the Demon swiped his talons across Ryan's face, ripping his helmet off, then transformed back to his humanoid form.

"_Pathetic," _the Demon growled, as he watched Ryan struggle to his feet, his strength all but spent, _"You were so proud of your skills, and what have those skills gotten you? Nothing, save for earning you a quick death… it was more than that Jedi gave me!"_

The Demon raised his right hand, claws outstretched, and brought it down at Ryan's head; with a titanic effort, Ryan flung himself backwards, but it wasn't enough to completely avoid the strike. The longest talon caught him on his forehead, at the edge of the scalp, then fell down the length of his face, slashing his eye and ending at the corner of his chin.

Ryan screamed in agony, falling to the ground and clutching at his ruined face, blood pouring from the wound; the Demon ignored him, glancing at his bloodied talon.

"_That should have killed you; congratulations, you did more damage than I thought. Take comfort in that as I end your suffering."_

The Demon raised his hand again, but just as he started to bring it down, a lightsaber spun across, severing the hand from the rest of the arm. The Demon turned and glared furiously at Ahsoka Tano, whose blade was now returning to her hand.

Recognizing the Jedi who'd crippled him all those months ago, the Demon aimed his cannon; before he could fire, a young man, also holding a lightsaber, made a pushing motion with his hands, and the Demon was sent flying backwards into a building.

"Ryan!" Ahsoka ran down to kneel next to the injured human, "Starkiller, we've got to get him out of here right now!"

"Understood," Galen said, before activating his holocom, "Blade Three, tell me you've got the _Desperate _ready to go?"

"_We just finished getting everyone onboard," _Wek replied, _"ETA to your position is thirty seconds; how's the Commander?"_

"He needs medical attention, and fast!" Starkiller said, "Tell Bitters to get ready!"

Wek must have felt the urgency, because the _Desperate Measures _was hovering above them in less than twenty seconds; without waiting for the ship to land, Starkiller lifted Ryan onto the extending ramp, and he followed, Ahsoka right behind him with Ryan's fallen helmet and weapons.

A few seconds later, the Durasteel Demon pulled himself out of the rubble, just in time to see the _Desperate Measures _take off, the _Rogue Shadow _right behind her. The Demon roared in frustration; his prey had gotten away, and Moff Laar would not be pleased. Still, the murderer was injured, possibly crippled, so the Demon took satisfaction in that.

Ryan's death would come later.

…

"Ma'am!" the comms-officer of the _Blaze of Glory _shouted, "Captain Eclipse reports that the Outcast Blades have been recovered, as has the unknown Jedi and her associates!"

The bridge erupted in cheers again; they had just finished off the last Star Destroyer, and now their people were coming home.

"Excellent," Captain M'zan said, "Tell Commander Nimbus that I expect to see him here within the hour."

The comms-officer went to do just that, but as he listened on his headset, his smile turned into a frown.

"What is it?" M'zan asked, a sinking feeling in her gut.

"Ma'am, both ships are headed at full speed to the _Tides_; there were casualties during the mission. It seems that about half of the Jedi's troops were killed on the surface, and aside from Force Team, everyone needs medical attention."

"What about the Blades?" M'zan asked, dreading the answer. _What about Ryan?_

"Three of the Blades suffered minor injuries—well, damage, in Sera's case—and Tanith's injuries are moderate; Commander Nimbus… his condition is critical."

_No…_ M'zan thought in horror.

Maintaining her composure, she said, "As soon as those ships are back, get us the hell out of here! I want to put as many light-years between us and this planet as possible!"

…

Tanith awoke to a piercing headache, and immediately wished she was asleep again; after that business on Naboo…

_Wait a minute, what happened on Naboo!?_

Tanith sat upright, ignoring the pain; she was lying on a bed in the infirmary aboard the _Tides of Change_. That wasn't good; her injuries must have been bad if Bitters hadn't been able to patch her up.

"You are awake." Tanith turned to see Sera sitting in a chair next to her; the droid wasn't in good shape, if the exposed circuitry on her leg was anything to go by. "I am glad to see that you have recovered."

"What did I miss?" Tanith asked.

"Quite a lot," Sera said, "I can tell you more, but you might want to put on some clothes first."

Tanith looked down to see that, indeed, her armor had been removed and she was only covered by a sheet and some bandages; embarrassed, she wordlessly accepted her civilian clothes from Sera. Once she was dressed, she limped out of the bed.

"Now tell me what happened."

"Our transport was hit by an armor-piercing weapon," the droid said, "you were knocked unconscious, and we were attacked by an unknown Imperial force. Several of the clones were killed, and the Commander was attacked by what appeared to be their leader. They fought at another location, while we were attacked by a large number of Stormtroopers; we only survived thanks to the intervention of Force Team. Commander Ryan was critically wounded, and is now in intensive care."

Tanith felt the blood drain from her face. "Take me to him."

"Your condition is…"

"Damn it, Sera, I don't care! Take me to him, NOW!"

Acting as a crutch, Sera guided the dizzy Tanith to another section of the infirmary, where she found Force Team, the clone, Rex, and Captains Fibb and M'zan sitting outside of a door. They looked up at the approaching Mirialan with varying looks of concern and disapproval.

"You shouldn't be up right now," Ahsoka said.

"I'm fine," Tanith protested, but gratefully accepted the chair that M'zan offered, "How's Ryan?"

Before anyone could answer, the door opened and Bitters stepped out, Wek right behind him; both had bandages over several parts of their bodies, and seemed oblivious to everyone else as they were focused on the datapads they held, until M'zan loudly cleared her throat.

Bitters looked up, his eyes landing on Tanith, then frowned. "You need to go back to bed."

Tanith didn't flinch. "Not until I know how he is."

The big medic sighed, then looked at his datapad. "I was able to stabilize him, but whatever cut him had some sort of toxin in the blade; I couldn't save his eye, and the scar will be permanent."

Bitters held up his hand to stop anyone from shouting. "I wasn't able to save the original organ, but Wek and I whipped up a cybernetic for him. He'll recover from his injuries in a few more days; it'll also give him time to regain all the blood he lost."

Everyone sighed in relief, but Tanith stepped forward on wobbly legs. "Can I see him?"

Bitters seemed to look her over for a second before nodding. "Five minutes, and then you're going back to bed; no exceptions."

Tanith walked unsteadily into the room; there, lying on a bed, was Ryan, the right half of his face covered in bacta patches.

"I'll leave you two alone," Bitters said quietly, then shut the door.

At first, Tanith thought that Ryan was asleep, but his left eye slowly opened, and he smiled weakly.

"Glad to see you up and about," he said, then slowly pushed himself up to a sitting-position, "How are you feeling?"

Tanith was torn between feeling touched and annoyed; she was touched that Ryan would ask about her, even though he was worse-off than she was, but she was annoyed that he was more concerned with others than himself.

"I'll be fine," she said, then gently took his hand, "How about you?"

Ryan shrugged, then winced. "Sorry, cracked a few ribs; Bitters says I just need to get used to the new eye."

The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes; Ryan didn't notice that he'd started rubbing his thumb over the back of Tanith's hand, but she did.

"Ryan," Tanith said, "I need to tell you something."

"What?"

Before she could say anything, the doors opened, and Bitters poked his head in.

"That's it, your five minutes are up; time to go back to bed."

"Just a second, Doc," Ryan said, the look in his remaining eye leaving no room for argument; Bitters sighed, then left.

"What did you want to say?" Ryan asked.

Tanith shook her head. "I'll tell you later, okay? Just focus on getting better."

Before Ryan could say the same to her, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips; it was only for a second, and then Tanith was slowly walking away. Ryan stared after her with his uncovered eye for a long time. After a while, the doors opened again, and Wek came in.

"How're you feeling, boss?"

"Not too bad, actually," Ryan said, his mind still on the kiss.

"Well, you might feel even better after this," Wek said, gesturing to his datapad, "I've found out a few things.

"First, those gray-armored troops that attacked us; they're called Special Regiment 47, and they're under the direct command of…"

"Moff Laar," Ryan finished, much to Wek's surprise.

"How did you know?" the Nautolan asked.

"Gri—I mean, the Durasteel Demon told me as much. We'll have to do something about him soon; was there anything else?"

"Right, there was; I know you probably don't want to hear about it right now, but I had a breakthrough on the Mystery Target."

Ryan's hand went to his forehead, but he winced when he accidentally touched near where his eye used to be. "Fine, give it to me."

"I was right," Wek said excitedly, "it _does _lead to something big; the data showed a lot of specialized equipment and referenced a top-secret project… on Kamino."

Ryan was intrigued. "But I thought that the Rebellion destroyed the facilities there?"

"They did," Wek said animatedly, "but it looks like they're building something underneath the ruins; what better place to hide a base than somewhere that's already been destroyed?"

Ryan nodded. "We'll do something about it soon, I promise; why don't you take this to M'zan and see what she thinks?"

"Sure, boss; you just get some rest."

After Wek left, Ryan leaned back. It was too much to handle in one day; finding the Jedi, Maris, discovering that Grif was alive, Kamino, Tanith kissing him… he needed time to process it all. As he began to drift off to sleep, one thought made its way into his mind.

_The Outcast Blades have enemies, and raids aren't going to stop this all at once._

_We're going to have to go to war._

**Yeah, not much to say here. Hope you liked what I did with the Durasteel Demon; I was inspired by Darth Vader, General Grievous, the Iron Patriot from "Iron Man 3" and that robot cat from "Transformers 2".**

**By the way, Kylantha was the Queen of Naboo during the Rebellion, so she isn't an OC.**

**Also, that was my first attempt at space warfare, I hope it was satisfactory.**

**There will be no escape for the Muffin this time.**


	7. Determination, Part 1

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. ONLY MY OC'S DO, AND ANY EVENTS THAT ARE NOT MENTIONED IN CANON MATERIAL. MY CHARACTERS' INTERACTIONS WITH CANON CHARACTERS AND EVENTS, HOWEVER, ARE A BIT OF A GRAY AREA, WHICH EXPLAINS WHY AN IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE AGENT HAS A BLASTER TO MY HEAD… IN CASE I GO TOO FAR.**

**Just a random thought I had the other day: if this story ever got a sequel, I might turn it into a crossover with Mass Effect. Don't ask me how just yet, but I might try; keep in mind, that could be months or even years away, but it seemed like an interesting idea.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 7

Determination, Part 1

After their close call on Naboo, morale for the Outcast Blades wasn't at its highest; in the six months since their founding, they'd never scraped by like that before. The mood of their allies within Battlegroup Maverick wasn't very good, either; after rescuing the Blades, they had tried to complete their mission to steal a nearly-complete orbital tether from the Empire at Malastare, but had been forced to retreat shortly after entering the system.

Rila M'zan might have been brave, but even she wasn't going to try to take something guarded by fifty _Imperial II_-class Star Destroyers.

Mon Mothma had been furious with them, demanding that the entire battlegroup be reprimanded, at the very least. Captain M'zan was going to give some choice words in response, but was preempted by the rest of Alliance Command; they had seen Maverick's sensor-data and according to that, the Imperials had been guarding the orbital tether since its construction. A single battlegroup would've been slaughtered.

Mon Mothma had looked like she wanted to fight their decision to not only not punish Maverick, but thank them for not getting anyone killed; seeing the woman's stubbornness, Admiral Gial Ackbar, commanding officer of the Alliance fleet, said that if she tried to push for Maverick's punishment, he would resign in protest. He was quickly followed by similar offers from Commander Cracken and General Rieekan, senior leaders of the Alliance; faced with that, Mon Mothma backed down, a fact that was celebrated throughout Maverick.

However, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't his fault, Ryan blamed himself for Maverick's near-censure; it had taken the convincing of General Kota, Captain M'zan and Tanith to get him out of a brief depression. After that, however, he had thrown himself into improving his skills, his weapons and his tactics; after nearly dying at the hands of the Durasteel Demon, he was determined not to fail again.

Now, Ryan was practicing his swordplay against Starkiller in the cargo bay of the _Tides of Change_, inside of a makeshift ring that had been created by a few engineers. The two sparring partners were goaded by a small crowd of cheering Rebels, and credits were changing hands every few minutes as Ryan continued to hold his ground.

In order to make the fight fair, Starkiller was forbidden from using the Force, save for making himself faster and stronger; despite this, Galen had a clear advantage, and yet Ryan doggedly hung on.

"I've never seen him try this hard," Tanith remarked to M'zan who, after hearing about the fight, had flown over from the _Blaze of Glory _to see for herself; the two women were watching the match from the second level of the cargo bay, unseen by anyone else.

"Yeah," the red Twi'lek agreed, "but then again, how many times has he even had to use his sword? Four, five times?"

"Six, if you count Naboo," Tanith corrected, "but I think that's why he's practicing so much; after what the Demon did to him, he doesn't want to be caught unprepared again."

M'zan looked back at Ryan and winced when she saw the 'souvenir' that the Demon had given the young human man; a thin, jagged scar ran down from the edge of his hairline, down across his eyebrow, eye, across the corner of his mouth and ending at the corner of his chin. His right eye, damaged beyond repair, had been replaced by a cybernetic that glowed a soft white.

Thanks to the efforts of Bitters and Wek, however, it was more than a simple replacement eye; it helped his already-impressive aim, giving him near-perfect accuracy, and acted as a backup HUD, in case he lost his helmet again, and had a few other handy features.

Right now, though, Ryan was just struggling to not get beaten to the floor by Starkiller; he'd gone seven rounds with the Jedi, each using a training sword, and Ryan had yet to win once. Still, he kept getting up, though his breathing had become ragged and his clothes drenched with sweat; Starkiller was only breathing slightly heavier.

M'zan took her eyes off of Ryan for a moment to examine Tanith; the young Mirialan woman was watching the fight intently, her own eyes never leaving her Commander. M'zan smirked; over the last two weeks since the Naboo mission, it had become almost painfully obvious that Tanith was pining after the human. She was also becoming increasingly fun to tease.

"You know," M'zan said playfully, deliberately half-closing her eyes as she looked back at Ryan, "I can see why you want him so much; he looks _really _good, especially when he's all sweaty like that."

She almost couldn't keep a straight face when Tanith glared at her, a blush covering her entire face.

"I thought you weren't really interested in him?"

M'zan shrugged. "Well, when he looks that good, how can I resist?"

"I _will_ fight for him."

M'zan almost recoiled at the sudden fierceness of Tanith's tone, then smiled coyly. "We could share him?"

Tanith's eyes went wide, and her mouth opened and closed, no noise coming out; M'zan suppressed a laugh as she continued the joke, even running her finger up Tanith's arm suggestively.

"I wouldn't mind sharing him with a cute thing like you," M'zan purred, "but only if you and I get some girl-time of our own…"

Finally, when Tanith looked like she was about to explode—whether from anger or embarrassment was unknown—M'zan threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, by the Force… you should have seen your face! You're even more fun to tease than Ryan!"

Tanith glared for a moment longer, before sighing. "Am I that obvious?"

"A blind man could see how you feel about him," M'zan said, smirking, "and if Ryan wasn't so busy training and getting used to his eye, he'd notice; unlike most men, he seems almost hyperaware of what women think about him… then again, most women he know can seriously hurt him, so I guess he has to."

Tanith mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I said that I was going to wait until after the war to tell him how I really feel," Tanith said in a resigned tone.

"That's a load of Bantha poodoo," M'zan said sternly, making Tanith look up at the slightly taller woman, "If you don't make a move soon, he won't think you're interested at all. On top of that, there are plenty of women on every ship in this battlegroup who have been giving him the eye; if you hesitate, he'll be snapped up before you have time to regret it."

M'zan walked behind Tanith on her way out of the cargo bay, playfully trailing her fingers across the Mirialan's shoulders as she did so.

"Of course, if you really _don't_ want him," she whispered, "I'll be more than happy to…"

"Oh, go plan an attack or something," Tanith growled, only for M'zan to laugh again.

Once the Twi'lek was gone, Tanith turned her attention back to Ryan and Starkiller, the former finally collapsing from exhaustion, while the latter gave a mock-bow to the cheering Rebels. Finally, Tanith left as well, heading for the hangar bay; she had her own work to do.

…

Ryan sighed as he got out of the shower; after getting beaten by Starkiller—again—he went to get cleaned up before he checked on the various projects the Outcast Blades had been working on.

After their encounter with Moff Laar's forces—the Reapers, they were called—Ryan had realized that the Blades' current armament wasn't enough to get the job done, and had set tasks for each member of his team.

Wek was working on making their stealth-generators last longer, and hold up better. Surprisingly, he had delivered the goods after only a week; they could now move at a light jog without breaking the cloak, thought they still broke when they fired their weapons. Now, Wek was hoping to extend the time before the generators needed to recharge to ten minutes, and Ryan was confident that it would happen.

Sera had been tasked with increasing the power of their weapons, and had succeeded. All the guns that the Blades had now had a new power setting, able to fire much more powerful shots; the tradeoff was that power packs had to be swapped twice as often with that setting, but Ryan considered it to be worth it.

Bitters had locked himself away in the med-lab on the _Desperate Measures_; after some of his stims had failed to save two of the critically-wounded clones on Naboo, he had begun work on various combat adrenals, and the med-lab was now filled with so many chemicals, Ryan often wondered if Bitters had to wear his helmet, using the filtering system to breathe. The only question Ryan had was where Bitters had gotten the chemicals; they certainly hadn't had them aboard before, and the infirmaries of the ships in Maverick weren't reporting any thefts.

Tanith had begun work on the _Desperate Measures _herself; aside from a new sensor array six months ago, the ship hadn't had any upgrades. At the time, they hadn't seemed necessary, but now, Tanith spotted some weaknesses that needed to be addressed. Despite the level of protection the _beskar _hull provided, Tanith installed a better shield-generator, then upgraded the hyperdrive, and then modified the turrets with the option to fire less powerful, but faster, attacks; the latter had been added when she realized that while the _Desperate _could take on ships that were her size or bigger, she had a problem with fast fighters, and the new system changed that.

Ryan himself wasn't idle, either; aside from getting used to his new eye and training with his sword—Kota had told him that his swordsmanship was on par with an above-average Jedi Knight—he was working on some of the built-in weapons of the team's armor. First, he upgraded their flamethrowers with an alternate setting and hotter-burning chemicals; instead of a cone of fire, the flame could be concentrated into a tube no thicker than a lightsaber. When focused like that, it could burn through medium-grade starship hull; the tradeoff was that these thermal lances—as Ryan liked to call them—could only hit one target at a time, and consumed fuel quickly. The flamethrowers could either be used normally for twenty minutes-worth of fire, or could use the thermal lance five times.

Ryan also upgraded the mesh that connected the _beskar _plates of their armor, with the help of Tanith; getting the idea from the Reapers, they threaded fine chains of durasteel throughout the mesh, reinforcing it. Ryan was also working on a little something for himself with Wek, when the latter had the time, anyway.

Now, though, Ryan was tired; he'd been working for days, and while he was determined to improve, he wasn't going to be stupid and ignore what his body was telling him. He was, however, annoyed with people approaching him to ask if he was okay, so he sought out his quarters on the _Desperate_.

M'zan had set up quarters on the _Blaze of Glory _for them—"You can share with me," she had told Ryan playfully, but had given Ryan his own—but Ryan rarely used them; he preferred the quiet on his own ship.

Ryan was almost at his quarters—after waving to Wek, who barely returned the gesture, as he was focused on one of the stealth-generators—when he heard a clang and muffled cursing. Recognizing the voice, he followed the sound to a ventilation shaft on the ceiling of the ship, where he saw Tanith. Rather, he could only see her jumpsuit-covered legs; the rest of her was inside the shaft, working on something.

Contrary to what Tanith and M'zan believed, Ryan did know about Tanith's interest in him—Ryan prided himself on knowing what was going on with the people closest to him, though the kiss from Tanith certainly helped—but he didn't mention it because he didn't know how to react.

True, he cared about Tanith, and would die for her in a heartbeat, but he would do the same for any other member of the Blades.

_I mean, it's not like I feel any differently about her than the others, _Ryan thought to himself, _aside from those times my heartbeat increases when she smiles at me, or how happy I felt after she kissed me and… oh, fierfek, I've got it bad, don't I?_

Still, even with this revelation, Ryan wasn't going to devolve into a babbling idiot around Tanith; he had too much self-discipline for that. The realization did, however, make him wonder: if he and Tanith started something, would he end up showing favoritism towards her over the other Blades? Would his feelings interfere with the way they acted on a mission? These were issues that he would have to bring up not only with her, but the other Blades as well.

Lost in thought, Ryan almost didn't notice Tanith swinging her booted foot towards his head until his new eye sent him a proximity alert; Ryan ducked the unintentional kick, then watched as Tanith crawled all the way into the shaft. A few seconds later, several panels fell to the ground, and Ryan could see the precarious position Tanith was now in; she was now carefully sitting on a single panel. Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ryan walked under her and ran his finger up her back; instead of jumping, like he expected, she only growled.

"M'zan, I swear, if you're going to go so far as to do that on my ship, I'm going to brain you with a spanner, I don't care if you're the CO of Maverick…"

"Does M'zan really do that to you?" Ryan asked, and was _then_ rewarded with Tanith yelping and falling out of the shaft, directly into his arms. The Mirialan struggled for a moment, before realizing who was holding her.

"Ryan!"

"Do you know anyone else who would dare risk getting brained by your spanner?" he asked jokingly, "Now, seriously, what did M'zan do?"

Tanith blushed purple. "N-nothing, she just made some jokes, that's all."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, the one not bisected by his scar. "Anything I should know about?"

"No, she was just being herse—look out!"

Too late; the panel that Tanith had been sitting on, which had been loosened when she fell off of it, finally fell away and banged against the back of Ryan's head. He fell forward, slipped and twisted, his back hitting the floor; Tanith, who had still been in his arms, fell on top of him, her head landing on his chest. She slowly raised her head to look at Ryan's face; he looked back at her, his face slightly red.

"Sorry about that," Ryan said softly, "are you okay?"

That was another thing that Tanith loved about Ryan: he could be playful, but if he thought that he went too far, he did his best to make it right.

"It's fine," Tanith said, pushing herself up slightly, allowing Ryan to prop himself up on his elbows; their faces were inches apart, but neither seemed willing to move.

After a moment's hesitation, Ryan started to move his head forward… and then stopped when he heard a cough. Both he and Tanith looked up to see the other Outcast Blades; Wek and Bitters had identical, knowing grins, while even Sera had a slight smirk on her artificial lips.

"Were we interrupting something?" Bitters said, struggling not to laugh; embarrassed, Ryan and Tanith got up and dusted themselves off.

"No, we were just, um, I pulled a prank, and, uh…" Ryan glared at the now-snickering Wek and Bitters, which became much more threatening with his scar and eye, "Was there something you needed?"

"Actually, yeah," Wek said in a more professional manner, "I've been doing some research on what we might find on Kamino."

"Did you find something good?" Ryan asked, his earlier embarrassment now replaced by slight excitement.

"Nothing specific, like the number of enemies we might face," Wek answered, "but I did find out more about what's going on there."

"And…?" Ryan demanded.

"It looks like a small Imperial detachment is dredging something up from the ocean; it could be valuable equipment, a newly-discovered resource, I don't know. What I also found out, however, is who's been added to the security forces; does the name 'Special Regiment 47' ring a bell?"

Ryan's eyes—he could still blink over his cybernetic eye—narrowed in anger. "The Reapers; so, Moff Laar has an interest in this project?"

"Yep, and from what I've dug up about his habits, it's probably something that he not only found to be of worth, but he's keeping it under wraps so that no one else knows about it."

Ryan nodded as he processed the information, idly scratching at where the scar ended at his chin. "Okay, send the intel over to M'zan, see if she wants in on this, and then see if Force Team can give us any backup."

"That seems like an unnecessary amount of force, Commander," Sera said.

"We're going to be flying nearly blind on this one," Ryan countered, "I'd rather have too much firepower, instead of not enough."

The Blades nodded, then returned to their stations to make any last-minute preparations. Tanith stayed behind to reassemble the shaft she'd fallen out of; Ryan waited until the others were gone before tapping her on the shoulder. The Mirialan turned to look down at him; though not as tall as M'zan, she was still taller than Ryan by several inches.

"Listen, about what happened before…" Ryan began, but Tanith held up a hand.

"I know, you were just trying to have fun, no big deal."

"Not that," Ryan said, taking a breath before continuing, "I meant in the infirmary a couple of weeks ago."

Tanith blinked as she remembered the kiss. "Oh! Um, right; well, I, uh…"

This time it was Ryan who stopped her; he reached up and wrapped his arms around her neck, pulled her in close, then kissed her. It was only for a second, just like what she had done to him, and then it was over; as Ryan stepped away, Tanith stared in shock.

"Why… what…?"

"I know how you feel," he said simply, "and after this mission, we'll talk about it, okay?"

Tanith nodded slowly, a goofy grin on her face; Ryan could feel a similar expression on his own as he began to head to his quarters to get ready. Before he left, however, he looked back and saw that Tanith was still standing in the same spot, smiling at empty space.

"Um, Tanith?" he called out, "We're gonna need that ventilation shaft in one piece again."

Tanith snapped out of it and began gathering up all the pieces; her smile, however, never faded.

Neither of them noticed Wek and Sera de-cloak, nor did they see Wek hand Sera fifty credits.

…

An hour later, Ryan was on the bridge of the _Blaze of Glory_, discussing the mission with M'zan; the red-skinned Twi'lek tapped her chin as she mulled over the information.

"It's a little sketchy," she said, "but Wek is sure that the intel is good?"

"He never brings anything to me before he checks it a hundred times beforehand," Ryan said confidently, "And besides, we don't have to be there for long; we show up and, if there's no Imperial presence in space, the Blades and Force Team will fly down and check things out. If there's something good, we'll either take it or destroy it; it's a smash-and-grab job."

"There's more of a risk this time," M'zan said, "I got a call from Alliance Command; they want the _Tides _to meet up with the rest of the fleet to help move some supplies, and they want the rest of Maverick to act as security."

"Since when do they ask for help from Maverick?" Ryan asked, "And for that matter, since when do you give it to them so easily?"

"Since I owe them for covering us from Mon Mothma," M'zan answered, "and I hate letting debts pile up."

Ryan shrugged; it wasn't like they _needed_ Maverick, he was just feeling a little skittish after the Naboo incident, and having the backup would have helped.

"Ma'am," Ren said from her post, "we don't necessarily have to go with the rest of Maverick; we could just say we're checking out a lead and, like Commander Nimbus said, if it's too hot, we can bug out."

M'zan glanced at her First Officer, amused. "Hungry for a bit of action, Ren?"

The young Mirialan, one of the only women Ryan knew that was shorter than him, shrugged. "The battle over Naboo reminded me why I signed on with the Rebellion: I like seeing Imperial ships burn."

M'zan smiled. "All right, if only to keep my First Officer happy; comms, signal Alliance Command and tell them that all but the _Blaze _will be assisting in the move."

"Aye, ma'am!" the comms-officer got to work, while M'zan gestured for Ryan to follow her off of the bridge.

Normally, the two would talk while walking, so Ryan was confused when M'zan motioned for him to be quiet until they reached their destination; that turned out to be a small room that was sparsely decorated, save for a small table, two chairs and a viewport with a nice view of space. M'zan sat in one chair and gestured for Ryan to sit in the other.

"So, about this mission," M'zan said seriously, "How much of it is getting something for the Rebellion, and how much of it is personal?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Moff Laar's forces are there," M'zan said, almost glaring now, "am I putting my people at risk for your personal vendetta?"

"I don't have a vendetta," Ryan said honestly, "Yes, I'm mad at the Demon for taking my eye, and I know he works for Laar. But come on, Rila, you know me; if I had a personal issue, I wouldn't take anyone else down that path with me."

M'zan stared into Ryan's organic eye for several long seconds, before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you; but I also know that you've been working yourself and the Blades harder than ever, and I've seen the way you tense up whenever anyone even says Laar's name."

"I don't have an issue with Laar, save for the fact that he wants to kill me," Ryan said, "Laar has a vendetta with me, not the other way around."

"Why _does_ he hate you so much?" M'zan asked, getting up and staring out the viewport.

"I killed his grandson," Ryan admitted, "when said grandson tried to kill me."

M'zan nodded silently; then, as if a switch had been thrown, she flashed a grin his way before sauntering over to him, an extra sway in her hips, and sitting in his lap.

"Well, now that that's out of the way," she whispered into his ear, "I seem to recall promising to give you a present for your birthday a couple of weeks ago?"

Ryan, long since used to her mock-flirting, played along; he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I do recall that; I also recall saying that I never cared about that sort of thing."

M'zan pouted, then shrugged. "Suit yourself; I sent it to your ship anyway. Oh, and before I forget, I had the most interesting conversation with Tanith earlier today."

"She mentioned something about that," Ryan said, remembering his conversation with Tanith… and the kiss.

"Well, if she ever tells you any details, tell her that my offer still stands," M'zan said with an impish smile.

"I'll do that," Ryan said, not knowing what offer M'zan was talking about, but playing along, "but as much fun as this is, we both have work to do."

"Spoilsport," M'zan pouted, but got up, allowing Ryan to do the same; she was about to leave the room when Ryan stopped her.

"Rila, wait," the Twi'lek turned to see Ryan looking at her quizzically, "What _did_ you send to my ship?"

"Just a bottle of brandy, in case you ever want to celebrate something," M'zan said casually, before walking back to Ryan and whispering into his ear, "Or if you want to spend a night with me; it'll work for that, too."

"Thanks," Ryan said, ignoring the second half of her comment, "I've never gotten alcohol as a birthday gift before."

"Well, it was either that or us in my quarters, with me wearing a bow," M'zan was now very close to him, "and nothing else."

Ryan rolled his eye again as he left, M'zan's laughter ringing in his ears.

…

**Kamino**

The _Blaze of Glory_, _Rogue Shadow _and _Desperate Measures _emerged from hyperspace several hours after the rest of Battlegroup Maverick had already left to join the Rebel fleet. All three ships were ready to fight or run, depending on what they found.

To everyone's surprise, however, there were no ships in orbit around Kamino; long-range scanners revealed that a ship was in the system, but was headed in the opposite direction. It appeared that nobody knew they were coming.

While the _Blaze _stayed in orbit, Force Team and the Outcast Blades would enter the ruins of Tipoca City where, according to Wek's data, the dredging operation was taking place. Aboard the _Rogue Shadow_, several people were nervous for different reasons.

Juno Eclipse was worried about her husband, Galen. The Jedi wasn't the first Galen; he was actually a clone, created on Kamino. He had all the memories and feelings of the original, but would occasionally have moments of despair and self-doubt; he would sometimes think that he wasn't enough for Juno, that only the _real_ Starkiller could be, but every time he did, Juno would be there for him. Coming back to Kamino, however, might bring it all back.

Maris Brood, one of two new members of Force Team, was also a little nervous; it wasn't about the mission, however, but about Starkiller. After meeting again once they'd escaped from Naboo, Starkiller had told her that he had no ill will towards her, as long as she really _was_ free of the Dark Side of the Force. She believed him, but she still remembered how close she'd been to death at his hands on Felucia.

Rex, the other new member of Force Team, wasn't so much nervous as he was upset; Kamino had been the closest thing he had to a home, and the Empire had turned it into a factory of monsters, if General Kota's description was to be trusted. If the clones that had survived Naboo had heard about that, they wouldn't have left to join the rest of the Alliance to train their troops. His brooding, however, was interrupted when Ahsoka tapped his armored arm.

"Hey Rex, you mind if I ask you something?"

Rex hesitated for a moment; even after all these years, he still expected a Jedi to order him to do something, not ask for his permission first, but they had almost always surprised him.

"Sure, what is it?" as he spoke, he checked the new sniper rifle that the Outcast Blades had given him to accompany his twin blaster pistols; according to Ryan, it had belonged to an Imperial Intelligence agent, and was almost as good as Wek's rifle.

Ahsoka hesitated, not sure how to phrase this, but was tired of not knowing.

"I thought clones aged at twice the speed of a normal human; shouldn't you be in your sixties or something?"

Rex glanced at his reflection in a console; his hair was graying, as was his trim beard, and his skin was a little lined, but he looked no older than in his forties.

"It's true; in all honesty, I should have died from accelerated aging. But a few weeks after me and some of the boys deserted, we heard about this guy on Mandalore, a man name Kal Skirata; he had captured a Kaminoan scientist and had her make something that slowed our aging down to normal levels. We paid him a visit, and he gave it to us, free of charge; he said that any clone that wanted to be free deserved to live as long as any other free man."

To his surprise, Ahsoka reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "Whoever this Skirata guy is, he's just put himself on my 'best people in the galaxy' list."

Rex was going to say something, but Juno interrupted them. "We'll be landing soon; I'll keep the stealth systems running and feed you any information I can."

General Kota nodded from his seat. "And the Outcast Blades?"

"They've programmed the _Desperate _to follow the _Rogue Shadow _on autopilot as soon as they've disembarked."

Kota nodded again. "Then may the Force be with us."

…

Wek glanced out at the perpetually stormy weather that was Kamino, then grinned at Sera.

"You sure you're not going to rust?"

The droid barely glanced at him. "You are an amphibian; are you certain that you will not become bloated and float away?"

Bitters let out a short laugh, then lightly punched Wek's shoulder. "She got you there, kid."

Wek grumbled good-naturedly, while Ryan glanced at Tanith.

"Any sign of Imperial party-crashers?"

The Mirialan looked at her instruments. "No, and according to Force Team, they're not getting anything, either."

"Should we be happy about that, or worried?"

"Well, it could mean three things: there might not be anything to find, it's very well-shielded, or…"

"Or it could be a trap," Ryan finished; he thought about it for a few seconds, before reaching for the comms, "_Blaze_, this is Blade Lead; do you have anything on your scanners? Anything at all?"

A moment later, Ren's voice was heard. _"Negative, Blade Lead, we've got nothing but stars and a big ball of water; the Captain is starting to get bored."_

Ryan and Tanith glanced at each other in amusement.

"Well in this case, that's a good thing," Ryan said, "but if we need something bombarded, we'll give you a call; Blade Lead, out."

"We're approaching the LZ," Tanith announced, "I'm setting the ship to follow the _Rogue Shadow_; everybody out!"

The Blades slipped on their helmets, readied their weapons and jumped out of the ramp and onto a circular pad; Ryan found himself grateful for his armor when he saw Force Team just ahead of them, all of them—save for Rex—drenched from the pouring rain.

"By the way, Blade Three, I'm using it today," Ryan said.

"Really? You finished it?" Wek asked.

"Yeah, today's its first field-test."

"This should be good," Wek said, as Ryan tried to contact General Kota.

"Kota, do you read me?" Ryan said into his comms; he could have just spoken normally, but there was a risk that the storm would drown out his voice.

"_I hear you, Blade Lead," _Kota replied, _"Starkiller knows this area, and he can guide us close to where we need to go."_

"Copy that," Ryan said, holding his carbine with both hands as he and the Blades followed Force Team deeper into the city.

They didn't encounter any sign of opposition for nearly twenty minutes; then they reached the mouth of a large, gaping tunnel that was guarded by a pair of Stormtroopers. Ryan gestured to Wek and Maris.

"Maris, Blade Three: take 'em out, nice and quiet."

Wek nodded and tapped on his stealth-generator, while Maris drew upon the Force to vanish; a few seconds later, one trooper gurgled as his throat was slashed, while the only sound that came from the other was that of his neck being snapped.

Both Maris and Wek de-cloaked and waved the others forward. As they entered the tunnel, the Blades, PROXY and Rex used the night-vision setting in their equipment to see, while the Jedi used the Force.

"Blade Two," Ryan whispered, "take point; your scattergun is perfect here."

"Copy that," Tanith said, moving to the front, Ryan right behind her.

As they moved down the tunnel, they would freeze every once in a while; they would hear the sound of shifting metal, but it was only the ruins of the city above them. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel, where they saw an enormous machine that was using a claw to pull something up from the ocean's depths; Ryan was about to wonder what they were pulling up, when Ahsoka pointed to their right.

"Look!" she hissed, "Those are Separatist troop-transports!"

Following her hand, the others could see the brown, H-shaped vessels; there were four of them, each sitting side-by-side. One was opened up by several Stormtroopers, revealing hundreds of skeletal battle droids.

"That's what they're pulling up," Rex said, "those clankers must have never been activated when the Seps tried invading; they must have been beaten before they could turn on!"

"But why would Moff Laar, or anyone from the Empire, want to dig them back up?" Starkiller asked.

"Clone Wars droids are worth a fortune to collectors," Wek said, "There was a guy back home who gave up his speeder for one."

"And what do you think ten thousand of them are worth?" Ryan asked, as the dredging machine brought up a fifth transport.

"I can see why Laar wants this stuff," Bitters remarked.

"Well, he's not getting it," Ryan said, "Laar will probably sell it all for credits that he'll use to hunt us down."

"I should have brought more grenades," Rex groused.

"Lead, I've got something," Wek said, looking through his scope, "Yep, I've got eyes on Reapers."

Ryan tensed. "How many?"

"Just a squad," Wek replied, "looks like they're overseeing the other troopers."

"Got it; Blade Five, how many troopers?"

Sera edged forward a bit, her enhanced optics taking in the surroundings. "Eighty Stormtroopers, plus attending officers, ten engineers and a squad of jet-troopers; there are possibly more inside the dredger."

"How do you want to handle this?" Kota asked; when he felt Ryan's confusion through the Force, he explained, "You suggested this; it's your mission."

Ryan nodded. "Blade Three, Rex: take out as many of the Reapers as you can, then start working on the engineers and officers. Blade Five, lay down fire on those troopers. Blade Two, Four, Maris and PROXY will go with me and secure the dredger. General Kota, Ahsoka and Starkiller will handle the rest; any questions?"

There were none.

"All right; Blade Three, Rex, fire on my mark." Ryan led the way towards the dredger, everyone else except Wek, Sera and Rex following. "Mark!"

Two muffled bolts of energy shot forth, killing two of the Reapers; a handful of Stormtroopers who were out in the open were mowed down by Sera's cannon, and then all hell broke loose. Starkiller sent a blast of Force-energy forward, shattering a dozen troopers' bones, while Kota and Ahsoka slashed apart another handful with their lightsabers. Ryan and his group ran for the dredger, killing anything that got in their way.

"Lead, incoming jet-trooper!" Tanith yelled, pointing up.

With his new eye, it took less than a second to track the jetpack-wearing trooper and snap off a shot with his carbine; the blaster bolt hit the jetpack, causing the trooper to lose control, then explode.

_That's why I don't wear a jetpack,_ Ryan thought.

The group made its way into the massive dredger; with a Force-push, Maris blasted down the door, then ducked, allowing Tanith to blow away a Stormtrooper with a charged shot. Ryan, Bitters and PROXY charged in next; Ryan's sword removed another Stormtrooper's head, while PROXY activated a graceful type of lightsaber-style and practically danced through a squad of troopers, reducing them to charred pieces of meat and plastoid. Bitters didn't rely on fancy forms; with a roar like a Rancor, he charged and swung Ol' Chopper in an arc, messily separating a trooper's upper half from his lower half.

"Entrance is secure," Ryan said into the comms, "Starkiller, how're things out there?"

"_Not bad," _came the reply, _"our snipers took out most of the Reaper squad, and Ahsoka finished the rest; the General and I are almost done with the other troopers."_

"Copy that; be advised, we'll be clearing out the rest of the dredger, but if we're not out in five minutes, come after us."

Ryan only received a click on his comms, which was the acknowledgment signal; Ryan and his group worked their way up the dredger's levels, taking out the occasional Imperial along the way until they reached the control room.

With a nod from Ryan, Maris blasted open the door; at first, Ryan thought there were just engineers in the large room, but then he saw the white stripe on the dark-gray armor.

"There's another Reaper squad in here!" he shouted, "Blades, switch to thermal lances!"

Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Ryan aimed his flamethrower, set it to the thermal lance, and fired; the condensed flame pierced a Reaper's chest like it wasn't even there. Tanith and Bitters were having similar results, and the lightsabers wielded by Maris and PROXY were dangerous-enough already. After a few seconds of intense fighting, only the Reaper's squad leader was alive; he held a heavy blaster pistol in his hand. With the situation almost resolved, Ryan decided to test out his latest creation; he aimed his left palm at the man's weapon and blinked at the correct symbol on his HUD. A small disk opened up on his palm, which glowed white, and the blaster was yanked out of the Reaper's hand and into Ryan's.

The Palm-Integrated Grappler, or PIG, as Ryan called it, used a focused beam of electromagnetic waves, and could attract, repel or move metal objects. Not everyone could use it, however; Ryan's cybernetic eye was fine-tuned to guide the beam precisely where he wanted it to go.

Though the Reaper was disarmed, he still lunged for a small device that was mounted on a console; Ryan, Tanith and Bitters all fired, but not before the man slammed his hand onto the device. Ryan's first instinct was that it was a bomb, and he took cover, but nothing happened.

"Huh," Bitters said, relieved, "I thought we were going to die for a second."

The Reaper, who was still clinging to life, started to laugh.

"What's so funny, dead man?" Ryan asked.

"You… you think you're safe? Ha! Soon, you'll all… be… dead…"

As he died, Ryan looked at the others. "What did he mean by that?"

…

"You know, the next time I agree to a mission like this," Captain M'zan said, "remind me to say no!"

The bridge crew of the _Blaze of Glory _agreed; they'd been sitting over the planet for almost an hour, and nothing had happened. A few of them had begun counting stars out of boredom.

_I swear, if anyone but Ryan had asked me to do this, I'd have punched them, _M'zan thought, _it's a good thing I like him._

Still, it didn't stop her from planning her revenge on the younger human.

_Let's see, should I flirt with him? Nah, he's used to that; he even flirts back sometimes. It's a game now. Oh well, I'll think of something eventually…_

"Ma'am!" Ren's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, "There's some sort of signal being emitted from the surface!"

"Is it from our people?" M'zan asked.

"Negative; I'm not sure what it is."

"I've got something!" the sensor-officer yelled, "There's a ship coming out of hyperspace!"

"Raise shields!" M'zan barked, "Ready all weapons! Whoever's coming, they won't catch us napping!"

M'zan leaned back in her chair, confident that she could take whoever showed up…

Until the massive shape of an _Imperial II_-class Star Destroyer emerged from hyperspace, every weapon aimed at the _Blaze of Glory_.

"Oh, fierfek…"

**Now to pile on the 'totally screwed' factor.**

**Yeah, it's a single Nebulon-B against an **_**Imperial II**_**. Those things are freaking massive; it's like when you kick a soccer ball… only the **_**Blaze of Glory **_**is the ball.**

**Something I should clarify: M'zan does not like Ryan in the romantic sense, she just likes to flirt with him. Seeing as how he isn't easily messed-with, M'zan has turned to messing with Tanith, and now just flirts with Ryan for fun.**

**Next chapter: more of the 'totally screwed' factor.**

**That's impossible, even for a computer!**

**It's not impossible, I used to bulls-eye Womp Rats in my T-16 back home, and they're not much bigger than two muffins!**


	8. Determination, Part 2

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S AND ANY EVENTS NOT IN CANON DO BELONG TO ME. DISNEY CAN KEEP THE EWOKS AND THE JAWAS, THOUGH.**

**So, where were we? Oh, right, I was piling on the 'totally screwed'.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 8

Determination, Part 2

Jedi were strange sometimes; that was a fact that Ryan had accepted a long time ago. Still, they knew what they were doing, and Ryan had learned to trust them, or at least his friends on Force Team; so when the Jedi in that team simultaneously stiffened in alarm, he knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" he asked Ahsoka Tano.

"I'm not sure," the Togrutan replied uncertainly, "I just got a feeling of danger."

Ryan, the Outcast Blades and the non-Jedi of Force Team readied their weapons.

"I do not detect enemy activity," Sera said, but Starkiller shook his head.

"It's not a danger directed at us," he said, "I can feel it… in space."

Ryan didn't like the sound of that; he reached for his comms. "_Blaze of Glory_, this is Blade Lead, what's your status?"

There was no response; Ryan tried again.

"_Blaze of Glory_, respond!"

When they still didn't get a response, Starkiller reached for his own comms. "Juno, can you tell us what's going on in space? We're not getting anything from the _Blaze_."

Thankfully, Juno was quick to respond. _"Understood, I'm checking scanners now… oh, no."_

"What's the 'oh, no' for, Juno?" Ryan asked nervously.

"_An Imperial Star Destroyer just came out of hyperspace!" _Juno shouted, _"It's engaging the _Blaze _as we speak!"_

"Juno, land the ships!" Ryan yelled, running for the tunnel that would take them to the surface; the Outcast Blades and Force Team was right behind him.

_I just hope that Rila can survive long enough for us to be able to help, _Ryan thought.

…

"Ma'am, our shields are gone!" Ren, First Officer of the _Blaze of Glory_, yelled, "Our port side is getting hammered!"

Captain Rila M'zan scowled from her command chair. "Keep up our evasive maneuvers; see if we can get too close for them to use their big guns!"

It was an absolute disaster; ten minutes ago, an _Imperial II_-class Star Destroyer had come out of hyperspace practically right on top of them and opened fire. If she was being honest, M'zan was amazed they'd lasted this long; a Nebulon-B Frigate like the _Blaze of Glory _was tough, but one good hit on the spar connecting the bow and stern and they'd be blown in half. Right now, she was doing all she could to struggle against a ship that was more than five times the size of her own, and had even more guns.

"Portside guns are gone, ma'am!" the gunnery officer reported, after the _Blaze _shook from another hit.

"Damn it," M'zan murmured, before raising her voice, "All right, let's keep our starboard side facing them for now, and someone get our shields back up!"

Another explosion rocked the ship, though it felt farther back; for a brief moment, M'zan had the same fear that every captain of a Nebulon-B had, that the spar had been severed, and the ship was now in two pieces.

"Our engines were damaged, ma'am! We've got fifty percent thrust left!"

_That's not going to be enough to keep evading, _M'zan realized, _well, fine; they won't take us down without a fight!_

"We still have teeth!" M'zan shouted, standing up, "Target their bridge; we'll give 'em something to remember us by!"

Grimly, the bridge crew set about the task; M'zan saw Ren subtly gesture for her to come closer.

"We're not going to make it, are we?" Ren asked.

M'zan wasn't one to lie, especially not to Ren; she gently placed an arm around the young woman she considered a sister.

"Probably not," she admitted, "but if I'm going to go out, I'd rather do it with a bang than a whimper."

Ren smiled and squeezed M'zan's hand; then her smile turned to fear when another impact rocked the ship, and a nearby console began to spark.

"Captain, look out!" Ren shoved M'zan backwards, just as the console exploded; M'zan heard a cry of pain, and then everything went black.

…

"Juno, where's my kriffing ship!?" Ryan yelled into the comms; above him, he could see the _Rogue Shadow_, but not the _Desperate Measures_.

"_It's one-hundred meters behind me," _Juno replied, hovering low enough for the Jedi to lift Rex and PROXY up into the ship with the Force, before jumping in themselves.

The Outcast Blades waited impatiently for a few seconds, before their own ship finally arrived; they quickly piled in, with Tanith taking the pilot's seat, and everyone else getting into one of the four turrets. Ryan shifted his sword slightly as he took his spot in the spinal-mounted turret, then called out to Tanith.

"See what you can do about calling the _Blaze_!"

As the two ships flew out, the _Rogue Shadow _fell back to allow the more durable _Desperate Measures _to take point. As they exited the atmosphere, they saw the one-sided battle; several people on both ships gasped.

The _Blaze of Glory _was burning; nearly every part of her port side was breached or wrecked. Even if the Star Destroyer were to somehow be defeated, the _Blaze _was already crippled beyond repair.

"Tanith, tell me you've got a connection to M'zan," Ryan said, horrified.

…

M'zan groaned as she regained consciousness, holding her sore head as she looked around; most of her disciplined bridge crew was still at their stations, doing their best to keep their ship in the fight. The only person who wasn't at their post was Ren…

A pained moan caught M'zan's attention; she turned to find the source of the noise, and felt absolute horror at what she saw.

Ren was sitting at the back of the bridge, fighting to stay alive, despite a two-meter shard of metal that had impaled her through the gut and was pinning her to the wall.

"Medic!" M'zan screamed as she rushed over to her First Officer; she placed her hands over the wound in a vain attempt to stop the blood from flowing around the metal. "Don't worry, Ren; you're going to be fine."

Ren smiled weakly at her captain, blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth. "T-thought you d-didn't lie, Rila?"

"I'm not lying," M'zan said fiercely, "I won't let you die! I'm _ordering _you to live through this!"

"I'm afraid I'm… going to have t-to disobey that order, Captain," Ren said, her eyes starting to grow dim.

"No! Stay with me, dammit!"

Ren reached up with a trembling hand to grab M'zan's. "N-no more w-wild parties for m-me, Rila… do me a f-favor?"

"Anything," M'zan choked out, but keeping her tears from falling out of sheer willpower.

"Give… give them hell… Rila…" Ren leaned her head back, and then she was gone.

M'zan reached out and gently closed Ren's eyes, before removing her stolen Imperial officer's cap and placing it on the dead Mirialan's head. She was jarred out of her grief when another impact rocked the ship; she stood up and marched to the center of the bridge, where she pointed at the Star Destroyer.

"Put everything we have into the engines, and overload the reactor! Set a collision course for their bridge!"

The bridge crew hesitated for a moment, before nodding in acceptance; they had no way of getting out of this fight alive. The best they could do was try to take the Imperial vessel with them.

"Ma'am, the _Desperate Measures _is hailing us!" the comms-officer announced.

M'zan nodded. "Patch it through."

"_Rila!" _Ryan's voice echoed through the bridge, _"Rila, are you there? What's your status?"_

"We're done, Ryan," M'zan said grimly, "We're going to fly as close as we can to that ship and then self-destruct; maybe we can take them with us."

"_That's insane!" _Ryan shouted, _"Rila, don't do this; there has to be another way!"_

"There isn't!" M'zan yelled back, "Ryan, we have nothing left; even if we abandoned ship, there's nowhere to go!"

Ryan was silent for a moment; when he spoke, his tone had changed from desperate to inspired.

"_There _is_ somewhere you can go!" _M'zan could almost hear the excitement and resolve in his voice, _"You can head for the Star Destroyer!"_

"That was already the plan!" M'zan said, as the ship shook again.

"_No, not by blowing yourselves up, that's stupid," _Ryan said, _"I mean you can _board _the ship!"_

The bridge crew looked at each other incredulously, while M'zan was starting to catch on; still, there was one problem.

"How are we going to even _get_ aboard that ship?"

"_Get everyone to the escape pods; the Blades and Force Team will go on ahead and secure the hangar. Once we get control there, use the _Blaze _as cover before making your approach; we'll shut down the defenses so you can get in safely. After that, you and your crew hold the hangar, while we go and capture the bridge; we can control the entire ship from there!"_

M'zan thought about it for a moment. "If it means my people get out of here alive, I'll do it; see you soon, Ryan."

Without waiting for a reply, M'zan activated the ship-wide intercom. "Now hear this: all hands, abandon ship! I repeat, abandon ship! Head for the escape pods, and set course for the Star Destroyer's hangar, it's our only hope!" she turned to the bridge crew. "Cut our engines and power down everything; we'll let the Imps think that we're done for."

The bridge crew nodded; once they were done making the ship seem dead, they headed for the escape pods. M'zan took a final glance at her bridge—her home—before her eyes fell on Ren's body; she bowed her head respectfully before heading out.

The Empire owed her a ship, and she was determined to get one.

…

"Is this really a good idea?" Tanith asked, as she flew the _Desperate Measures _at the Star Destroyer's hangar, the _Rogue Shadow _right on her tail.

"It's either that, or we let everyone on the _Blaze _die," Ryan told her; as they passed the burning _Blaze_, Ryan gave a small salute to the ship that had been a second home to him.

"Heads up!" Tanith shouted to the other Blades, "Looks like the Imps are sending a welcoming-committee!"

Ryan's grip on his turret's controls tightened as a squadron of TIE Fighters tore out of the hangar, trying to intercept them.

"Let 'em have it!"

The four turrets opened fire; the lead fighters ran headlong into it, destroying a third of them. The Blades began to track the others, but to their surprise, the TIEs began colliding with each other, as if someone were grabbing and then smashing them together. Ryan grinned as he recognized Starkiller's handiwork from within the _Rogue Shadow_.

Before the Star Destroyer could deploy more fighters, the two ships entered the hangar; the members of Force Team jumped out and began attacking the waiting Stormtroopers, but the Outcast Blades remained in their ship, blasting everything with their turrets. When the smoke settled, and there were no nearby enemies, Ryan signaled M'zan's personal holocom.

"Rila, we're in; how close are you to getting here?"

"_That SD is going to pick us up on scanners any second now," _M'zan said, _"You better get those guns shut down fast!"_

"You heard her!" Ryan shouted, "Tanith, land the ship; as soon as we're out, Wek, you need to find a computer terminal."

"Copy that!" Wek said.

Tanith landed the ship, and the Blades rushed out, weapons ready; Force Team was busy taking out the remaining Imperials in the hangar, which gave Wek time to get to a nearby terminal unimpeded. The other Blades covered him as he worked; after a few seconds, Wek pumped a fist.

"I've got it! The escape pods should have a straight shot to the hangar!"

"Understood," Ryan said, before contacting M'zan, "Rila, the guns defending the hangar are offline, I repeat, they are offline; you are clear to approach."

"_Understood, Blade Lead; we'll be arriving soon."_

The escape pods arrived a minute later; Starkiller used the Force to steady their landing, but it was fairly easy. When the Rebels came out of the pods, Ryan could see that there were injured among them; he waved Bitters towards them, and the medic began his work. As the other Blades and the Rebel marines began securing the hangar, Ryan approached M'zan, who was missing her cap and had blood over her hands.

"Rila, are you all right?" he asked softly, so as not to distress the rest of M'zan's crew.

M'zan shook her head. "I lost my ship, and I lost a lot of my people… Ren, too."

Ryan felt a surge of sadness and anger; Ren had been his friend, too. He gently placed his armored hand on M'zan's shoulder.

"We'll have time to mourn later; right now, we have to make sure that we don't lose anyone else, okay?"

M'zan nodded, before taking a deep breath; she scooped up a fallen blaster rifle and began barking orders and organizing a defense of the hangar. While she did that, Ryan was approached by Sera.

"I have counted the Rebels who have made it to this vessel," she said, "There are six-hundred and eighty-two survivors."

Ryan winced; over two hundred people, people he'd known and considered friends, had died. On top of that, it wasn't nearly enough to adequately control a Star Destroyer. Ryan pushed that thought aside for now; he would focus on that problem after they had control of the bridge.

"Okay, we don't have much time before the Imps realize we've got their hangar," Ryan said, waving over the other Blades and Force Team, "Captain M'zan will hold this area, while we head for the bridge; from there, we should be able to take control of the ship."

"We can't let ourselves get surrounded by only taking one route," Kota commented, "We'll need to split into two groups; that way, we can divide their focus."

"Got it," Ryan said, "Everyone, check your gear; we move out in five."

As the two teams got ready, Ryan went over the plan with Kota; Force Team would be going the long way and provide a distraction, since Starkiller could easily destroy all but the most elite Imperial forces, but only while making a lot of noise, while the Outcast Blades would travel in a more direct route, relying on their stealth-generators and only engaging if necessary.

_Not bad for something we came up with on the fly, _Ryan thought, but knew there was still a risk; the plan relied on the typical arrogance of Imperial officers, who thought their troops could overwhelm the Rebels in the hangar, instead of just opening it up to space. If the captain of this particular ship was one of the competent ones, he would do just that.

Before the two teams split up, Ryan had a few pieces of advice.

"Remember, people, only target hostile Imperial forces; we're going to need all the maintenance droids after we're done, and try to keep damage to the ship itself at a minimum." He gave Starkiller a pointed look; that Jedi lacked restraint, and if he wasn't careful, he might rip the ship in half.

To his credit, Starkiller only huffed, but nodded; he'd have to tone it down for this mission.

"All right then," Ryan said, drawing his carbine and nodding at Force Team, "We'll see you guys on the bridge; may the Force be with you."

Kota smiled at the younger man. "And with you, Commander."

…

The Outcast Blades waited for a few minutes, letting Force Team distract the Imperials, before activating their stealth-generators and moving out; thanks to the upgrades Wek had made, they were able to make good time getting there, either encountering no opposition or avoiding it altogether, until they reached about halfway between the hangar and the bridge.

"Hold up," Ryan said, raising his fist; the stealth-generators had worn off at that point, but they had no time to just sit and wait for them to recharge.

"Do you see something, Lead?" Tanith asked, calmly raising her scattergun.

"No, I thought I _heard_ something," Ryan responded, before turning to Sera, "Blade Five, you picking up anything?"

Sera waited for a moment, expanding the range of her audio receptors to their maximum. "Seven hostiles approaching, ETA to our position is one minute; their weight suggests that they are heavily armed and armored."

Ryan checked the status of his stealth-generator; it still needed another two minutes to recharge. "Fierfek, no choice; prepare to engage!"

There wasn't any cover in the hallway they were in, so the Blades were going to have to do this the hard way. They waited for less than a minute, and then they saw what they were up against.

Standing over two and a half meters tall, the seven droids were covered in jet-black armor, their optics glowing a menacing red; on their right arms were two-foot long vibroblades, and on their left was a rectangular blast-shield. They were some of the most feared ground-based weapons in the Imperial arsenal.

Phase-I Dark Troopers.

"Kriffing hell!" Ryan shouted, "Take 'em out, fast!"

He fired his carbine, aiming for the legs of the nearest Dark Trooper; his shots, which were set to their more powerful mode, caught the droid in the ankle, causing it to stumble, but not fall. Sera used the high-explosive setting on her cannon, ripping the shield-arm off of another, but not stopping it, until Tanith blew its head off with a charged shot from her scattergun.

Wek used the high-powered setting of his sniper rifle, piercing the blast-shield of one Dark Trooper and drilling a small hole in its shoulder, but not doing much else. Bitters sent a withering barrage of blaster bolts at the droids, but didn't do much more than cosmetic damage.

"Switch to thermal lances!" Ryan yelled, "Stay out of close combat!"

The other Blades didn't outwardly acknowledge him, as they were in the middle of fighting, but they did switch to those weapons. It turned out that they were a good choice; Ryan's shot took one Dark Trooper in the waist, severing its torso from its legs. It still tried to drag itself forward, but Ryan finished it by stabbing it in the head with his _beskad_. Tanith fired her lance in a chopping motion, bisecting another Dark Trooper, while Bitters' and Wek's targets moved to try to avoid their shots; instead of destroying them outright, they only cut off their arms. Sera's target was almost on top of her, when she fired her thermal lance point-blank, directing the shot upwards and out the top of its head.

Ryan turned to assist Wek and Bitters with finishing off their targets, but the final intact Dark Trooper tackled him into a bulkhead. Ryan deflected two strikes from the droid's vibroblade with his arm-guard, not for the first time thankful that he had such high-quality armor. Since he was too close to use his thermal lance, he drew his _beskar _dagger with his left hand and raised his sword with his right. He knew he couldn't beat the Dark Trooper with sheer strength, and didn't try; he merely deflected the vibrosword with his dagger, moving it just enough that it missed him, and then slashed his own sword across the droid's chest.

He moved in to run the droid through, but the Dark Trooper brought its knee into Ryan's chest, winding him; like an executioner, the droid brought up its vibrosword to decapitate him, but four thermal lances impaled it from different angles, and it fell to the deck in several pieces. Ryan looked up to see the other Blades lower their flamethrowers.

"I had that one," Ryan said, after he got his breath back.

"Sure you did," Tanith replied, helping him to his feet, as Bitters scanned him.

"You're fine," the medic said, "but you're gonna have one hell of a bruise."

"At least I didn't lose anything this time," Ryan shot back, tapping the right side of his helmet, over his eye.

"Come on," Tanith said, inserting a fresh power pack into her scattergun, "Let's get to the bridge."

…

The rest of the trip to the bridge was quiet, save for the occasional—and brief—skirmish with squads of Stormtroopers. Still, the Outcast Blades were tense as they reached the bridge, sealed by blast-doors.

"Could the lances burn through that?" Wek asked, gesturing to the doors.

"It's too thick," Ryan said, shaking his head, "and we don't have the explosives necessary to breach this thing; where's Force Team when you need 'em…"

"I've got an idea," Wek said, taking out a datapad, "Remember when we snagged that Admiral's code a couple months ago?"

"I seem to remember _you_ snagging it, but go on," Ryan said.

"Well, I can use it as an override; the door will _have_ to open!"

"Guess no one thought we might have the magic word to open the door," Bitters commented.

The team took positions outside of the door. Wek was crouched behind Bitters, tapping at his datapad; after a few seconds, the blast-doors slid open.

The Blades rushed inside, killing the handful of Stormtroopers who were guarding the bridge, as well as any officer who tried to resist. Ryan saw the Captain of the vessel, a middle-aged man with sharp features, level an ornate blaster pistol at them; wanting to take him alive, Ryan activated his PIG and yanked the blaster out of the officer's hand and into his own. Outgunned and outclassed, the remaining Imperial held up their hands in surrender.

Ryan walked up to the Captain and held the man's own blaster against his forehead. "Hello, my name is Ryan Nimbus, and you are my prisoner."

…

A few minutes later, Force Team arrived to find the bridge secured; Kota looked around with unseeing eyes and whistled appreciatively.

"I've never heard of a Star Destroyer getting captured before, not to mention in under an hour!"

Ryan shook his head. "We're not done yet; we still have to secure the rest of the ship for the Rebels."

"Can we get the other Imperials off somehow?" Ahsoka asked, "I mean, why don't we just send the signal to abandon ship, make them head to the escape pods?"

Ryan stared at her. "There _are_ no escape pods on this ship."

"What?"

Ryan sighed. "Imperial personnel are expendable; the only escape craft is reserved for high-ranking officers or important officials who happen to be aboard."

"Then how do we secure the ship?" Rex asked.

Wek raised his hand, as if he were a student in class. "I have an idea; we could turn off life-support in all compartments except for the bridge and the hangar. That'll leave the maintenance droids intact, as well as any useful tech; plus, there's no risk to our side."

"You can't do that!" the Star Destroyer's Captain argued, speaking for the first time, "That would be murder!"

"So?" Ryan asked darkly, "You had the _Blaze of Glory _totally outmatched; did you even ask them to surrender? I don't think so; you murdered over two hundred of our friends. Can you say that you care about every damn Stormtrooper on this ship?"

From the way the Captain slumped, Ryan knew the answer; he turned to Wek.

"Set it up, but don't push the button; if anyone is going to take responsibility for this, I will."

Wek nodded grimly, then started tapping away at a terminal. "It's done; I've locked the hangar down, and sealed the bridge… it's your show now, Commander."

Ryan's hand hovered over the console that would kill nearly every living thing on the ship; could he really live with that much death on his conscience? Then his mind drifted to the people who'd died on the _Blaze_; they hadn't been given a chance to surrender, to live, so why should he give the same? Then again, while most of the Imperials on the ship were clones with no one to relate to, there were certainly people aboard with families that missed them. In the end, Ryan had to decide between the people he knew who had people to go back to, and the people he didn't know at all.

"I'm sorry," Ryan whispered, then pressed the button.

After a minute, the Jedi began flinching as they felt the thousands of Imperials die of oxygen-deprivation; Ryan was thankful that he wasn't Force-sensitive. After another few minutes, the Jedi reached out with the Force, then nodded at Ryan; the only Imperials alive on the ship were the ones on the bridge. Wek reactivated the life-support systems, while Ryan reached for his comms.

"Rila, the ship is secure; you can come to the bridge now."

"_I'll be there as soon as I can," _M'zan said, _"but we still have a problem: how are we supposed to fly this ship with so few people? Even if… even if we hadn't lost anyone on the _Blaze_, doesn't it take thousands of people to crew a Star Destroyer?"_

It was true; an _Imperial II_-Class Star Destroyer needed a minimum of five thousand crew to operate it. They had less than a fifth of that; where were they going to get the extra hands?

"Wait a minute," Ryan said, a grin starting to form on his face, "Oh, Rila, you're going to love this…"

…

Twelve hours later, Ryan stepped back to admire the Rebels' handiwork; using the maintenance droids—as well as good old elbow-grease—the crew of the yet-to-be-renamed Star Destroyer had brought the five Separatist troop-transports up from Kamino. Wek had once again worked his magic, and had reprogrammed all ten thousand mint-condition battle droids. He hadn't reprogrammed each one individually, of course; that would have taken weeks. Instead, he reprogrammed a few, showed the Rebels how to do the same, and then reactivated those droids and told them to reprogram their fellows. Soon, every one of the droids was a dedicated Alliance soldier.

There was more going on than that, however; an impromptu, if solemn, ceremony was given for the semi-intact _Blaze of Glory_. Teams of droids that had been reprogrammed were sent aboard to retrieve as many bodies as they could; despite their best efforts, however, there were still over a hundred corpses that could not be recovered, including Ren, because the bridge had been destroyed shortly after the crew had abandoned ship. Using their new ship's weapons, the Rebels made sure that no trace of their former home would be salvageable by the Empire, nor could their friends' bodies be desecrated; the _Blaze of Glory _was annihilated down to its smallest components.

Once that was done, the new droid crewmembers swept every corner of the ship, checking for Imperial survivors; finding none, they were tasked with gathering up the enemy bodies and sending them towards the atmosphere of Kamino, where they would be cremated upon reentry.

One question that several people, the Blades included, had wondered was why the Imperials only had one ship ready to enter the system. The now-former Captain had explained that; apparently, he had owed Moff Laar a favor, and in return for a clean slate, he had agreed to alter his ship's course slightly, ready to respond in case Laar's forces called for help. That was technically against his standing orders, so he kept it secret from the rest of his battlegroup.

Now, with the ship secure and a course laid in for the Rebel fleet, Ryan made his way back to the _Desperate Measures_; he was beat, and he needed rest. After getting onto his ship, he got out of his armor and into his civilian clothes; he just wanted to find a quiet corner of the ship and sleep, and hopefully recover from today's stress.

The Blades dealt with stress differently; Tanith usually found something to tinker with, Bitters worked on anything medical-related—indeed, he was still helping wounded Rebels in the Star Destroyer's infirmary—and Wek went to a shooting range. Even Sera had something akin to stress, and alleviated it by downloading new data on the Holonet. As for Ryan, he preferred to sleep for a few hours.

He went to his own quarters, but couldn't get comfortable; unable to sleep, he wandered around the ship, looking for a spot to catch a nap. He finally wound up outside the cockpit where, to his surprise, he found Tanith sitting on the floor in her civilian clothes. The Mirialan looked up at him in surprise.

"Ryan! What are you doing here?"

Ryan sat down next to her. "I was going to ask _you_ that."

"Well, _I_ asked first."

"Fair enough," Ryan said, smiling, "I was looking for a spot to take a nap."

Tanith pulled up a blanket that she'd been using as a cushion between her and the hull. "Here you go."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked, even as he accepted the blanket; before Tanith could reply, he saw her shiver, and spread the blanket so that it covered both of them. "I would have thought you'd be in the ship's engine room, getting to know how it all works."

"I was," Tanith admitted, "but I saw that some of the engineers from the _Blaze _weren't there, and I realized that they were… well, I just needed to get away from it all for a bit. How about you? After what… after what you did on the bridge, I thought you'd be a lot worse off."

Ryan nodded, reminded that he'd single-handedly killed over thirty thousand people. "It's not something that I'm going to come to grips with for a while… and I'm probably looking at more than a few sleepless nights in my future."

For a moment, Tanith said nothing; at first, Ryan thought she might have fallen asleep, but was then surprised when she wrapped her arms around him and drew him in close, resting her chin on top of his head.

"Well, don't worry; if you need to talk to anyone, I'm here, okay?"

Ryan blinked, then returned the embrace; the two sat there for a long time, just holding each other. Finally, Ryan separated enough for him to look up into Tanith's eyes.

"What is it?" Tanith asked.

"Remember before this mission, when I said we'd talk about… us?"

"Y-yeah?" Tanith looked nervous; Ryan felt the same, but was doing his best to hide it.

"Look, I'll be honest: I've never been in a relationship before, a serious one, at least. I don't know how one works, especially when there's a chance that one of us—hell, maybe both of us—could die during a mission. We can't let… whatever we have between us… interfere with how we act on a job; can we do that?"

Tanith looked away for a moment. "I'm willing to give it a try."

Ryan nodded. "Me too, which means I think I can finally do this without getting brained with your spanner."

Before Tanith could ask what he was talking about, he had captured her lips with his own in a deep kiss; she soon found herself reciprocating the gesture, but lowered herself so that Ryan didn't have to deal with the fact that, even when both of them were sitting down, she was still taller than him. Finally, the two parted for air, resting their foreheads together; after they got their breath back, they sat upright against the hull again, though Ryan kept one arm around Tanith's shoulders, while she had her hand around his.

"I think we can make this work," Tanith said; when Ryan didn't answer, she looked down at him to find that he was sleeping, though a wide smile adorned his face. With a smile of her own, Tanith used her free hand to pull the blanket around them; after resting her head on top of his, she also fell asleep.

…

When Ryan awoke, it was to a welcome sight and an unwelcome sound. The welcome sight was that of Tanith asleep in his arms, and from the way she was smiling, she was enjoying quite a pleasant dream; Ryan wanted to go back to his own dreams, but that unwelcome sound—that of his holocom—kept beeping at him. It was with a scowl that he finally activated it, and the hologram of one of the battle droids appeared.

"_Commander Nimbus, Mistress M'zan wishes to speak to you in the Captain's quarters."_

_Mistress M'zan? _Ryan thought, _oh, I bet Rila's going to love that._

"Okay, I'll be there soon," he said out loud.

"_Roger, roger," _the droid said, then signed off.

"Hmm, Ryan?" Tanith said, rubbing her eyes and stretching, "What's going on?"

"Not sure yet," Ryan said, giving her a quick kiss before standing up and helping her to her feet, "M'zan wants to see me about something."

"D'you know what she wants?" Tanith asked, picking up the blanket and draping it over her shoulders.

"Probably my opinion on something," Ryan told her, making his way to the ship's ramp, "You go back to sleep; I'll be back soon."

As he was leaving, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest, and a chin rest on his shoulder; he glanced out of the corner of his eye—the real one—and saw Tanith look at him with worry.

"Just so you know," she said, tightening her grip, "if we're together, I won't tolerate her flirting with you."

Ryan turned around and gently stroked her cheek. "I'll be sure to tell her that it won't just be you. Staying objective during a mission is going to be tough; having another woman hit on me is just going to make things worse."

Satisfied, Tanith quickly kissed him before letting him leave; she watched him go for a while, before hearing a muffled thump behind her. She whirled around, whipping a spanner out of one of her pockets and hurling it in the direction of the sound and was rewarded with a yelp of pain; Tanith glared as Wek de-cloaked and rubbed his sore head.

"Wow, you are really strong," he complimented, hoping to deflect Tanith's anger; it didn't work.

"How long were you there?" she demanded.

"Well, I don't know how long you two were there for," he admitted, "but I was here for about two hours."

Tanith glanced at her chronometer; she and Ryan had been sleeping for almost six hours!

"So," Wek said, a smirk on his face, "you and the Commander, huh?"

"What about it?" Tanith asked, slightly defensive.

"Nothing, I'm just a little surprised it took him this long to figure out how you felt about him," Wek said, his smirk now a full-faced grin.

Tanith sighed. "I think he knew for a while, he was just figuring out how _he _felt."

"Well, so long as he doesn't break your heart, sis, I won't have to shoot him."

"Sis?" Tanith echoed, an eyebrow raised, "Since when am I your sister? We're not even the same species!"

Wek shrugged. "Well, Ryan's always saying how we've got to stick together and look out for each other; I always thought that was what families did?"

Tanith smiled. "Well, if I'm your sister, than I'm your older sister; off to bed with you, young Nautolan!"

Wek's laugh turned into a yawn, so he started to make his way to his own quarters; before he left, however, Tanith stopped him.

"Actually, before you go, can I borrow your stealth-generator?"

…

Ryan stopped outside the room that had been the previous Captain's quarters, and now belonged to M'zan; at the doors, a pair of battle droids stood guard.

"The Captain called for me," Ryan said, "May I go in?"

The droids nodded, and the doors opened a few seconds later. Ryan entered and gave a low whistle of appreciation; the Captain's quarters were over half the size of the _Desperate Measure_'s cargo bay! While the room was large, it was fairly undecorated, save for a table and a few chairs, as well as a few Imperial symbols that had been on the walls and were now on the floor; Ryan looked around, but M'zan was nowhere to be seen.

"Rila, are you in here?" Ryan called out.

"Just a second!" M'zan said coming out of the room's refresher; she had removed her jacket for the first time in Ryan's memory, allowing him to see the long scar that ran the length of her right arm. She was also wearing a new Imperial cap; she had taken the previous Captain's as a trophy and a replacement. She sat down on the edge of the large bed and looked at Ryan tiredly.

"Are you all right?" Ryan asked, then inwardly cursed himself for asking such a stupid question; of course she wasn't all right, she was dead-tired, she'd lost her ship and people she considered family. No one would be all right after that.

"I'll be fine," M'zan assured him, then patted the spot next to her, "Care to sit with me for a while?"

While Ryan had told Tanith that he would put a stop to any flirting from M'zan, he seriously doubted she would try anything now; besides, he wasn't going to be stern with her right after her recent losses. He sat down next to her, but not too close.

"Quite a day, huh?" M'zan asked; without waiting for an answer, she flopped backwards onto the bed, her cap falling off. "How can a victory feel so much like a defeat?"

"Sometimes, that's the best we can do," Ryan offered.

"Oh, stuff it, Nimbus," M'zan snapped, "You've never lost people, I have, even before today; you don't know what it's like to watch as the people who put their trust in you die."

M'zan was dangerously close to tears, something Ryan had never even thought possible; the Twi'lek was too tough for that. He reached out and patted her leg, which turned out to be the wrong thing to do; M'zan brought her whole body onto the bed, the moved almost like a serpent until she was behind him.

"I need a favor, Ryan," she whispered into his ear.

"What is it?" Ryan asked, feeling uncomfortable as M'zan sat behind him, wrapped her arms around him and drew him close to her body.

"I need… you," M'zan said; before Ryan could say anything, she kissed him. It was then that Ryan smelled the alcohol on her breath.

"Rila, are you drunk?" he asked, pushing her off and scooting back.

"No, just a little tipsy; turns out the Imp captain had a secret stash," M'zan said, then rushed forward, tackling Ryan onto the bed and lying on top of him, getting in one passionate kiss before Ryan managed to put his arms between them.

"What are you doing!?"

"Having fun," M'zan said, working on taking off her shirt, "You don't think I flirted with you if I wasn't a _little _interested, do you?"

"Rila, _stop_!" Ryan pushed himself up and gripped M'zan by the shoulders, "You need to snap out of this, it isn't you!"

Something in M'zan snapped. "What else can I do!? They're _dead_! All those people who trusted me… Ren… they're gone, and I can't get the memories to go away! How can I distract myself from it? Tell me!"

Ryan stared at her for a moment, before hugging her tightly. "Don't distract yourself at all; it isn't your style. Face it head-on and just let it out; no one will ever know, okay?"

M'zan finally shook herself out of her slightly-alcoholic daze; what was she doing? Yes, she loved Ryan, but she was not _in _love with him; somehow, her grief and the alcohol had caused her to lose control of herself. Ren would have been so disappointed in her; thinking about the young Mirialan finally did it for M'zan, and she let the tears fall.

Ryan, seeing this, just continued to hold her, not caring about the tears that were soaking his jacket. This wasn't flirting, this was just a friend who needed a hug; in Ryan's opinion, everyone needed one at some point.

"It's okay," he said over and over as he rubbed her back; after a few minutes, M'zan sniffed and backed away, then got off the bed to sit on one of the chairs. Ryan followed her and sat in one across from her.

"I'm sorry," M'zan said, not looking Ryan in the eye, "I don't know what came over me."

"I think you wanted to just joke around, and the alcohol took it too far," Ryan said calmly.

M'zan sniffed again, before smiling weakly. "Tanith may try to kill me." Then she seemed to realize what she said and looked up in horror. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's not my place to say…"

"Don't worry about it," Ryan said, "She and I… we're kind of together now."

M'zan blinked several times. "When did this happen?"

"A few hours ago; neither of us have really been in a serious relationship, especially while in the middle of a war, so we're not really sure how to go forward yet. It does bring me to another point," Ryan said, his expression turning a bit stern, "I wasn't going to bring this up today, but after what just happened, I need to make one thing clear: no more flirting, okay? Tanith really doesn't like it."

"She's got you whipped already?" M'zan asked, returning to her old self a bit; she smirked when Ryan sputtered.

"Wha—no, stop it!"

M'zan laughed. "Oh, it's about time I got you to lose your cool! I think I found my new favorite game!"

Ryan would have glared at her, but right now, M'zan needed to laugh, and anything he did negatively to her might be a step backwards for her.

Neither of them noticed that Tanith was right outside the door—her borrowed stealth-generator making her go unnoticed by the droids—listening to every word; satisfied with how things were working out, she quietly made her way back to the _Desperate_.

…

**Rebel Fleet, Two Days Later**

The vessels that made up of most of Battlegroup Maverick were getting antsy; for almost three days, the _Blaze of Glory _had failed to check in, and the captains of her sister ships had been pestering Admiral Ackbar to let them investigate. Ackbar had denied them, if only because he wanted to free up some backup first. Still, he wasn't very optimistic; if they had been out of contact for this long, then there was a good chance that Captain M'zan and her crew were either captured or dead.

"Admiral, we've got a ship exiting hyperspace!" his sensor officer aboard _Home One _shouted; Ackbar turned to the direction the officer was pointing at, just in time to see an _Imperial II_-Class Star Destroyer appear, right in front of their entire fleet!

"Raise shields!" he shouted, "Tell all ships to ready their weapons; I doubt that Star Destroyer is alone!"

"Admiral, we're being hailed by the Imperial vessel," the comms-officer said, surprised.

For a moment, Ackbar was dumbfounded; Imperial ships tended to fight rather than talk, so this was a first for him.

"Patch it through," he said.

A viewscreen was replaced by an image that was at first covered in static, but then resolved itself… into Rila M'zan!?

"_Admiral Ackbar," _M'zan said formally, _"I regret to inform you that the _Blaze of Glory _was destroyed, and two hundred and eighteen of my crew were lost. However, we were able to capture this ship in exchange, as well as deal a blow to one Moff Laar, a high-ranking Moff of the Empire; permission to rejoin the fleet?"_

Ackbar was momentarily stunned; no one in the Rebellion had ever captured such an impressive target like a Star Destroyer before, and while the loss of life was saddening, the capture had only required the loss of a single Nebulon-B Frigate?

"Permission granted," the Admiral said, "though I would like to know the name of your vessel."

M'zan smiled in that predatory way that always made Ackbar glad that the Captain was on their side.

"_I suggested a new name, and the rest of the crew agreed._

_Our ship is called the _Ren's Vengeance_."_

**Kind of a roller-coaster, wasn't it? Death, destruction, romance, drunken almost-romance and a new ship; it's exciting!**

**I know Ren's death probably didn't hit many of you that hard; after all, she was a minor character, but it was still the first time I'd ever killed off one of my OC's, so it was a little sad on my end. Still, this means that Moff Laar was indirectly responsible for the deaths of over 200 of the Blades' friends; if you thought they were pissed off before, you ain't seen nothing yet!**

**So, Ryan and Tanith are together; I'm pretty sure that 99% of you knew that was coming, but I hope their first real romantic moment was satisfactory. As for M'zan… she was grieving and intoxicated; people do stupid things while being affected by one of those, what happens when you combine the two? Nothing good, I'll tell you that.**

**More details concerning the **_**Ren's Vengeance **_**in the next chapter, but I will be changing some stuff; other than that vague statement, no spoilers!**

**One more thing: I'll be taking a short break from this story. Don't freak out! It's just so that I can finish my Bioshock story, and then I'll be back on this; give me a couple of weeks to work out a few details for a few upcoming chapters, okay?**

**That armor is too strong for blasters! Use your harpoons and muffins; go for the legs, it might be our only chance of stopping them!**


	9. Calm Before the Storm

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S AND NON-CANON EVENTS, HOWEVER, DO. YOU KNOW HOW YOU SHOULD LET A WOOKIE WIN, UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR ARMS RIPPED OUT OF YOUR SOCKETS? WELL, A WOOKIE WILL DO THAT TO ANYONE WHO STEALS MY OC'S.**

**Hi, everyone, I'm back! I honestly thought I'd be away from this for a longer period of time, but it just kept pulling me back in. Plus, I finished my Bioshock story sooner than I thought.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 9

Calm Before the Storm

Unbelievable. That was the word that Moff Laar would use to describe the last two years; in that time, he'd gone from a feared and respected leader in the Imperial hierarchy to nearly a pariah. Yes, he was still feared and respected, but only by those who weren't Moffs, and it was all due to the murderer of his grandson.

After stealing the Star Destroyer he'd sent to watch over his Kamino-based operations, the Rebels had rubbed salt in the wound; several months later, they were using that same Star Destroyer to attack several of his other holdings across the Outer Rim.

Laar had been summoned to a meeting with his fellow Moffs, which he had expected; the capture of a Star Destroyer was unprecedented, and the Rebellion's propaganda was giving a lot of their supporters hope. He had come into the meeting prepared to defend his actions, as well as honestly pledge the entirety of his forces to hunting down and destroying those particular Rebels. He had been cut off before he could begin, however; by the Emperor's decree, Laar was to pay for a new Star Destroyer—something he could easily afford—and then lose all authority for two years. Still, he considered himself fortunate that the Emperor himself hadn't called for him; if that had happened, Laar would have been executed.

During that time, he'd been cut off from all contact with his forces; when his temporary exile was over, he had a lot of catching-up to do. He was swamped by reports of the mercenaries—these so-called 'Outcast Blades'—attacking his bases, killing his men and taking everything of value, occasionally supported by the Rebels who were now using the stolen Star Destroyer. He had hoped that the Durasteel Demon would have killed them by now, but even with the upgrades he'd given the man, he was clearly no tactician. The Demon would head to every base that was attacked, but by the time he arrived, the Rebels were gone. There had only been one engagement between Laar's forces and the Rebels in space, and that had cost him one of his _Tartan_-class cruisers, with no reported casualties for the Rebels.

Now, however, Laar was back in charge. True, his resources had taken a hit, but it wasn't crippling or even serious; he still had connections in the Imperial Navy, and Imperial Intelligence still owed him a favor or two. It might take some time to reorganize his forces, but in the end, it would be worth it.

His honor would be restored, and his grandson would be avenged.

…

**Echo Base, Hoth**

"Whose bright idea was it to set up a base on the worst planet ever?" Ryan asked, shivering despite the heating systems in his armor.

"_At least it's hard to find," _Wek offered over the team's comm-frequency.

"Oh, shut up, kid," Bitters said, "You don't have anything to complain about; _you're _nice and warm on the ship!"

It was true; Wek's physiology meant that extremely cold environments were terrible for him, especially for long periods of time. For that reason, and the fact that the Blades wanted to do more than just sit in a base while waiting for… something, Ryan and his team only came to the frozen world of Hoth to drop off supplies to the Rebels.

Over the last two years, the Rebellion had done almost nothing but run and hide, much to the chagrin of the Outcast Blades, Force Team and Battlegroup Maverick. There had been almost no major battles, and every engagement between the main Rebel forces and the Empire had resulted in the Rebels turning and running.

The only major exception to this was Maverick; they had upped their aggression against the Empire, particularly Moff Laar, who was responsible for the deaths of nearly two hundred of their friends. When they weren't attacking Laar's forces, however, Maverick would go after any Imperial target of value.

At the moment, Captain M'zan was leading an attack on a TIE-fighter factory, with the help of Force Team. Ryan and the Blades had wanted to go with them, but had been recalled to Hoth for, in Mon Mothma's words, "an important assignment".

"Why are we even here?" Tanith grumbled, "Every time Mothma gives us a job, something horrible happens; remember Ryloth?"

"Yeah, I remember," Ryan said, scowling, "I got shot on that planet… twice. And you make a good point: every time Mon Mothma gives us a mission, we end up having to fight our way out of a trap. Either she's trying to kill us, or whoever's supplying her with intel is really bad at their job."

"Either scenario is unhelpful," Sera said.

"_Understatement of the decade," _Wek chimed in from the _Desperate Measures_, _"But at least she's giving us something to do."_

"All right, enough griping," Ryan said, "I'll talk to Mothma, since I'm the only one who won't shoot her; everyone else, head back to the ship and help Wek with unloading those weapons."

Bitters and Sera nodded and left, but Tanith stayed behind.

"Something wrong?" Ryan asked.

"I just… I'm tired of getting ambushed every time we take one of _her _jobs," Tanith said, refusing to use Mon Mothma's name, "If it turns out that this is another one of those times… I really don't want to work for her anymore."

Ryan nodded. "I feel the same way, and I think the others do, too; if this is another one of those times, we'll stop taking her jobs, I promise."

Tanith briefly placed her hand on his arm; it was the closest either of them came to showing affection while in their armor. After beginning their relationship—which had been celebrated by their friends, both in the Blades and Force Team—they had been very clear that once they got into their armor, they were to keep things strictly professional. It had been difficult at first, but after two years, they had mastered it.

After Tanith left, Ryan made his way to Mon Mothma's office in Echo Base; one of the few things he respected about Mon Mothma was that she was willing to live in the same conditions as the other Rebels… though sometimes Ryan wondered if that was because the Rebellion didn't have the supplies to give her a better one.

Along the way, he would occasionally receive greetings from the Rebels milling about the base; though the Blades might not have been treated like family, like they were with Maverick, the Rebels still appreciated everything that the Blades did for them. Ryan was almost at Mon Mothma's office when he heard a guttural roar; turning, he saw a Wookie with a silver bandolier across his shoulder, yelling at a man wearing blue pants, and a black vest over a white shirt.

"I'm telling you, Chewie," Han Solo argued, "The hyperdrive needs to be ready now!"

The Wookie, Chewbacca, growled.

"I know, I know," Han said in a kinder voice, "but if we don't pay Jabba soon, than I'm a dead man."

Chewbacca nodded, then gathered up a pile of tools at his feet and stomped off.

"Problems, Han?" Ryan asked, taking off his helmet and smiling.

Han smiled back. "Hey, Ryan! Yeah, we've got some hyperdrive problems on the _Millennium Falcon _right now, and at the worst possible time."

Ryan had met the legendary smuggler, Han Solo, a month after the capture of the _Ren's Vengeance_. The two had played a few hands of sabaac to pass the time—Ryan would swear that Han was cheating; nobody won that often!—and the two had become friends. Due to Han's close friendship with the Wookie, Ryan had also befriended Chewbacca as well.

"Sorry to hear that," Ryan said sympathetically, "If you want, I can have Tanith check her out for you?"

Han shook his head. "No, thanks; no offense, but I don't want anyone but Chewie and me to fix my ship."

Ryan shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"What about you?" Han asked, "I know you hate coming here; why didn't you just drop off your latest catch and leave?"

"Mon Mothma asked to see me," Ryan said, proud that he was able to say the name without scowling, "Something about a critical mission."

Han winced, knowing about both the Blades' relationship with Mon Mothma and their record with her missions.

"Good luck," he said, "try not to shoot her."

"She isn't worth the blaster bolt," Ryan said as he turned to leave; it was thanks to a warning from his cybernetic eye that he avoided colliding with a golden protocol droid. Ryan deftly sidestepped it, then continued on to Mon Mothma's office; he glanced backwards to see the droid speaking to Han, who was starting to look agitated.

Ryan opened the door to see Mon Mothma sipping some sort of steaming beverage; she glanced up at him with a neutral expression.

"Hello, _Commander_," she said, making Ryan wonder for the umpteenth time if she found calling him that distasteful, "I'm glad that you've come; I have a mission for you and your team."

"I hope it's not a trap… again," Ryan said, taking the datapad that Mon Mothma offered, "If it is, consider it our last job from you; we'll stick to our standard raids, otherwise."

Mon Mothma looked surprised. "I assure you, our intelligence is sound."

Ryan didn't look at her, choosing instead to read the datapad. "Yeah, that's what you said for the Muunilist job… and the Geonosis job… and the Ryloth job—you see where I'm going with this? Either your intelligence is far from sound, or you're trying to get us killed."

Mon Mothma opened her mouth to object, but Ryan held up a hand to stop her. "We'll do this job, I promise, but if it turns out to be another trap, consider your contract with the Outcast Blades to be cancelled."

Mon Mothma nodded. "I understand. If this is a trap, though, it would certainly be an odd bait this time."

Ryan had to agree; the task was to secure some data about Imperial trade routes from a station on the planet Bespin, a place called Cloud City. It really wasn't vital, but it could be a great help for Maverick, which in turn, was helpful for the Rebellion.

"I'll get my team right on that," Ryan said, turning to leave.

"Not yet," Mon Mothma called out, stopping him, "There's a storm coming in, and it's unsafe for ships to leave; by now, the doors have been closed and locked."

Ryan sighed. "Okay, fine; we'll leave as soon as the storm passes."

…

"You mean we have to _stay_ here!?" Wek shouted, once Ryan told them the news.

"Sorry, Wek," Ryan said, now in his civilian clothes inside the cockpit of the _Desperate Measures_, as were the other Blades, "Until this storm is over, we're stuck here."

"Oh, fierfek!" Wek said, throwing up his hands.

"Don't worry, it should be over sometime tomorrow," Ryan assured them all, "Now, everyone get some rest, it's late."

"Okay, _Dad_," Bitters said, rolling his eyes, even as he left for his quarters; Wek and Sera did the same, but Ryan stayed in the cockpit with Tanith.

"What do you think about the job?" Ryan asked as he sat next to her.

Tanith reached over and placed her hand in Ryan's before answering. "Bespin is out of the way, the Empire might not have much of a presence there, if at all. Still, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You sure you're not a Jedi?" Ryan asked, trying to lighten the mood; when it didn't work, he shrugged. "Anyway, it's like I told Mon Mothma: if this turns out to be another trap, we're done taking her jobs."

Tanith nodded, satisfied with Ryan's answer, then smiled and started playing with Ryan's fingers.

"When the last time we were alone like this?" she asked.

Ryan smiled back. "Two days ago."

"Too long," Tanith said, getting out of her seat and standing behind Ryan, who looked up just in time for her to kiss him.

The kiss lasted for a few seconds, before Tanith pulled away, but only to sit on Ryan's lap. As she leaned back against him, she made a mental note to thank M'zan for something she'd said a while back; it _was _fun to use Ryan like a chair.

"Did you ever think you would be here?" she asked softly.

"You mean leading a bunch of mercenaries against an enemy with nearly limitless resources and getting dragged into a vendetta with a powerful leader of said enemy?" Ryan asked back, "Or the fact that I have the most beautiful and most talented woman in the galaxy sitting on my lap?"

"Both," Tanith said, blushing a little at Ryan's compliment; most people would have considered it a sweet nothing, but Tanith had learned that Ryan only gave his honest opinion when addressing her.

"No to the first one," Ryan said, before leaning in close to whisper in Tanith's ear, "but I always kinda hoped for the second."

They shared a soft laugh, until Tanith stood up and turned around, looking down at Ryan with her fists on her hips.

"I am not so easily wooed, buster."

"You're right; I'll have to try harder." Ryan stood, tilting his face up slightly to look Tanith in the eye, then began kissing her; she tried to keep up the pretense of playing hard to get, but soon found her arms draped over Ryan's shoulders and feeling weak in the knees. Even after two years, Ryan still had that effect on her.

"How about now?" Ryan asked, a knowing twinkle in his organic eye.

"I surrender," Tanith said, still using Ryan to keep herself upright, "You are a master wooer, sir."

To her pleasant surprise, Ryan swept her into his arms and began carrying her out of the cockpit. "I've realized that there is _one_ benefit to being on this freezing ice-ball."

"Oh, and what is that?"

Ryan halted just outside of his quarters, a place that more often than not, he and Tanith shared. "It gives us a great reason to keep warm."

…

The next morning, Wek was surprised to see that he was the first one up; normally, Ryan was awake first, usually going over some report or something. Well, Sera was actually the one who was up first, but then again, she didn't sleep at all.

Still, Wek wasn't the only one surprised as he made himself breakfast; a few minutes after he woke up, Bitters had the same expression of confusion as he joined him.

"Where's the Commander?" the medic asked.

"I don't know," Wek answered, "I mean, when was the last time he was up _after_ us?"

"That was three weeks ago," Sera said, joining them not because she needed food, but because she actually enjoyed speaking to the other Blades.

Bitters tapped his chin in thought. "Three weeks ago, wasn't that when Ryan and Tanith… oh."

The three looked at each other in understanding.

"Fifty credits says they look terrible when they get out of Ryan's quarters," Wek said, grinning.

"I will take that bet," Sera said, "I believe that neither Tanith nor the Commander will want to cause a scene."

Though they had gambled on Ryan and Tanith actually getting together, Wek and Sera had begun a habit of placing wagers on every aspect of their relationship. Bitters was the only one who had stopped; after Tanith had found out, she had hit him with a spanner, and he was the only one who had stopped after the first time.

"You know, for a savant and a droid," Bitters said, "you two can be such idiots."

Wek and Sera looked ready to respond, but a spanner, spinning end over end, struck the latter on the side of the head, causing her to accidentally headbutt Wek.

"Excellent throw," Ryan's voice called out, as he and Tanith entered the area, looking perfectly groomed.

"Fine, you win," Wek moaned through his new headache, and handed Sera fifty credits.

"You two look… rested," Bitters said warily, ready to duck if Tanith decided to hurl another spanner.

"Thank you, Bitters," Tanith said in a falsely-polite tone, though her smile was genuine when she glanced at Ryan.

"Anything new?" Ryan asked his team as he helped himself to some food.

"No, just got here," Wek answered, though Sera tilted her head, a sign that she was listening to something.

"There is a rattling sound coming from the engines," she reported, "In addition, there is someone on the ship's ramp; they are knocking on the door."

"I _knew_ something had been knocked loose when that turbolaser hit us last week!" Tanith said, standing up and taking a plateful of breakfast with her, "I'll take care of it."

After giving Ryan a quick kiss, she dashed off; Ryan, meanwhile, quickly finished his own food before standing.

"I'll go see who's outside," he said, then glared at the other Blades, who were looking at him with varying degrees of amusement, "Hurry up and finish; we might need to get moving."

Deciding that getting off of Hoth sooner outweighed the fun of teasing Ryan, Sera went to put on her armor, while Wek and Bitters quickly finished their food so that they could do the same.

Ryan made his way to the ship's exit, where he saw a young woman with delicate features and a white uniform.

"Princess Leia," Ryan said in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Ryan had met the princess of Alderaan not long after meeting Han; he hadn't interacted with her often, but he respected her for her bravery and commitment. At the moment, though, she didn't look brave; she looked scared.

"Commander Nimbus," she said, actually making Ryan's rank seem respectful, "We have a problem; Commander Skywalker never returned to base yesterday, and Han—I mean, General Solo went out to find him in the storm. Please, we need anyone we can spare to look for them."

"Luke was missing out in that storm and Han went out to find him _alone_? Why didn't anyone tell me!?" Ryan demanded, but rushed back inside of the _Desperate Measures _instead of waiting for an answer.

Leia could hear him shouting orders, even outside the ship; she quickly got off the ramp when she felt the vessel get ready to take off. A minute later, and the ship was flying out of the base.

…

Thankfully, the search didn't last very long; with the help of the _Desperate Measures_' sensors, the Rebels were able to narrow down the search area, and both Han and Luke were brought back intact.

Han had only suffered some mild exhaustion, but Luke had apparently been attacked by a Wampa, a large, hairy beast that killed and ate anything it could get its claws on. Skywalker had escaped, but his wounds, combined with the freezing storm, had almost killed him. If Han hadn't found him in time to stuff him into the body of a dead Tauntaun, another native animal of Hoth, Luke wouldn't have survived.

Now, Luke was finishing a treatment inside of a bacta tank, and was well on the way to recovery. Not for the first time that day, Ryan heaved a sigh of relief; he had become friends with Luke, thanks to their mutual friendship with Ahsoka, and he really didn't want to tell her that her 'nephew' had frozen to death.

After Luke was finished with the bacta treatment, Ryan went to check on him; he always wanted to hear someone say that they were all right, and not from the mouth of a doctor… unless that doctor was Bitters.

He was just about to enter Luke's room when he heard muffled shouting, and then Leia stormed past him in a rage. A few seconds later, Han Solo walked out of the room in the opposite direction, shaking his head in exasperation, while Chewbacca followed, laughing quietly.

_Not sure I want to know,_ Ryan thought, then entered the room, where he saw Luke lying down, looking confused, while R2-D2 was beeping in an amused tone.

"Hey there, Skywalker," Ryan said, leaning against the wall and throwing a two-fingered salute.

"Ryan!" Luke grinned, "I didn't even know you were back!"

"Who else's ship could have helped those guys find you?" Ryan said, then gestured to Luke's face, "Looks like that Wampa left you a little something to remember him by."

Luke reached up and touched the small scars on his face. "They should fade in a few years."

"That's a shame," Ryan said, "those scars will drive the ladies wild… though they aren't as cool as mine."

Ryan gestured to his own face and Luke laughed good-naturedly.

"So," Luke said, "does Aunt 'Soka know about what happened?"

"You know, you're the only one who calls her that," Ryan commented, before addressing the question, "And no, I haven't told her; you can do that yourself."

"You're just scared of her," Luke accused, but without any real malice behind it.

"The first time I met her, she took down most of a Stormtrooper platoon by herself," Ryan said, "I'd be an idiot to get on her bad side."

Before Luke could respond, Ryan's holocom started to beep; excusing himself, he left and activated it, and Tanith's hologram appeared.

"Hey Tanith, what's up?"

"_Ryan, we may have a problem," _Tanith said, her expression serious, _"I just heard about a possible Imperial code being detected on the planet."_

Ryan tensed; if the Empire knew where the Rebels were, or at least had a good guess, there wouldn't be much time to evacuate.

"Tanith, keep the ship warmed up, we might need to bug out quick; please tell me you fixed whatever was wrong with the engines?"

Tanith smirked. _"Who do you think you're talking to? I had it fixed before Luke was found."_

"Nice work; tell the others to get ready in case we need to defend the base, but I want you to stay on the ship for a fast getaway."

"_Copy that."_ Tanith's hologram vanished; Ryan put on his helmet and made his way to the base's command room.

"What's the situation?" he asked to no one in particular.

"The situation is bad, that much is certain," an aging man, General Rieekan, said. Ryan nodded respectfully at him; he and the other Blades may have had issues with Mon Mothma, but they had only respect for the rest of the Alliance leadership.

"General Solo and Chewbacca just destroyed an Imperial probe droid," Leia said, her eyes only barely betraying her anxiety.

"Then the Empire knows we're here," Ryan said calmly, "Took 'em long enough. What do you need from me and my team?"

"Since we're going to be space-bound once again, we're going to need that data from Cloud City more than we thought," Rieekan said, before handing Ryan a datapad, "But I'd like you to deliver these orders to Captain M'zan first; I'd normally just call her, but our long-range communications were damaged during the storm. The Empire has been stepping up its game, and we can't afford to have an element of the fleet caught straying from the pack."

"M'zan won't be happy," Ryan commented, "but I'll try to make her see reason."

"Thank you," Rieekan said, "Despite Mon Mothma's opinion of you and your team, I know that you've done us a great service, and I hope that it continues; may the Force be with you."

"And you, General," Ryan said, nodding respectfully at both Rieekan and Leia, before turning on his heel and leaving.

…

**Outskirts of the Taris System**

"Captain, the factory has been destroyed," the tactical officer of the _Ren's Vengeance _announced.

Captain M'zan leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. "Excellent; any casualties on our side?"

"We've got a few X-Wings from Comet Squadron that are reporting minor damage," another bridge officer said, "They took some hits from a few TIE's, but everyone is coming back in one piece."

"Tell them to head here for repairs," M'zan said, "Once all fighters are aboard the _Vengeance _or the _Tides_, jump to lightspeed and head for Nar Shaddaa. I'll be in my quarters until then; Gorch, you have the bridge, inform me of any developments."

"Aye, Captain!" a grizzled Rodian, the First Officer of the _Vengeance _for the past two years, saluted.

M'zan returned the salute before marching off of the bridge; on the way back to her quarters, she received salutes or nods of respect from the various organic Rebels that she passed. The battle droids—now painted blood-red—only acknowledged her if she addressed them first. When she arrived at her quarters, she took a moment to recall how much things had changed over the last two years.

After the loss of the _Blaze of Glory_ and the subsequent capture of the _Ren's Vengeance_, M'zan, Fibb and several other officers worked together to make both M'zan's new ship and the rest of Maverick a more powerful force.

The first, and biggest, challenge was the _Vengeance _herself; M'zan noted several glaring weaknesses in the ship's defenses. After two years of refits and modifications, the Star Destroyer now had a formidable point-defense system against fighters, bombers and missiles. That wasn't the only added defense, though; their shields were upgraded with Mon Calamari technology, and was in fact the first thing M'zan had requested.

The Rebels had removed much of the ground-based vehicles from the hangar bay—Alliance Command had been thrilled to get those—they had made room for extra fighters; the ship now had a complement of six squadrons of X-Wings, four squadrons of Y-Wings and two squadrons of A-Wing interceptors. They also repurposed the Imperial landing craft for their own use, in case their marines needed to board an enemy ship or land on a planet.

Even with the ten thousand battle droids from Kamino, maintaining a Star Destroyer would be tough on less than seven hundred organics; however, they were able to solve that problem during the initial refits. Plenty of volunteers had joined up with Maverick; the _Vengeance _now had over six thousand organic crew, along with a thousand marines, as well as the twelve fighter squadrons.

Besides the additions to Maverick's flagship, the battlegroup itself got a new heavy hitter: another Mon Cal Star Cruiser called the _Ocean's Majesty_, captained by an eager young Mon Calamari named Saff Tand. The ship had also come with its own complement of fighters and bombers, and was welcomed by the rest of Maverick with open arms.

With all the vital changes finished, M'zan had wanted something else done with her new ship: the Star Destroyer was painted blood-red, and on the front third of the vessel was the symbol of the Rebellion, painted over it in black. M'zan liked to think of that it was a real slap in the face to any Imperial who saw it.

M'zan had worried that all of these changes would happen slowly, but since most of the Rebellion was fairly idle, Maverick found itself nearly overwhelmed by volunteers; the refits had only taken three months. Since then, the battlegroup had made itself known as an enemy to be feared; their attacks were swift, efficient and always either captured or destroyed its target.

With another victory to her name, M'zan stretched out on her bed, considering taking a brief nap, when her holocommunicator beeped; scowling, she activated it to see the expressionless face of one of the battle droids.

"What is it?" she asked.

"_Apologies for disturbing you, Mistress," _the droid said, _"but we are receiving a transmission from the Outcast Blades."_

M'zan resisted the urge to wince; even after two years, the battle droids seemed unable to call her anything but 'Mistress', a title she came to loathe. She had asked Wek to fix it, but even the technological savant was stumped.

"All right," M'zan said, "patch it through to my holocom."

"_Roger, roger."_

A moment later, the droid's hologram dissolved and was replaced by Ryan's.

"_Rila, good to see you," _Ryan said, _"I've got bad news and more bad news."_

"Well, let's start with the bad news this time," M'zan said with a smirk.

"_Well, the Empire knows about Hoth," _Ryan began, causing M'zan to groan; she knew it was only a matter of time before the Empire found the Rebel base.

"What's the other bad news?" she asked.

Ryan sighed. _"General Rieekan wants you and the rest of Maverick to link up with the fleet; I don't know if it's a permanent thing, but he doesn't want to risk losing any ships, especially if the Rebels might need them soon."_

"And since so much went into making the _Vengeance _so good…" M'zan muttered under her breath, but Ryan heard her.

"_The General didn't say that, but you're probably right; still, I think it would be a good idea, at least for now."_

Reluctantly, M'zan nodded; besides, Maverick had to drop off a lot of recently-captured supplies, and with their base now compromised, the Rebellion would need everything it could get its hands on.

"Okay Ryan, I'll send the order; where are we going to link up with the fleet?"

"_Not sure," _Ryan said, _"Rieekan gave me a datapad, but it's top-secret, for your eyes only. That's why we're headed for your position; I have to personally give it to you."_

_Rieekan doesn't strike me as paranoid, _M'zan thought, _oh well, at least the Blades are coming home._

"All right, I'll delay our hyperspace jump; how soon can you be here?"

Ryan looked at something that M'zan couldn't see before responding. _"About three hours; can you be patient for that long, or are you going to start shooting battle droids to relieve your boredom?"_

"Oh, shut up," M'zan snapped, but failed to hold back a smile, "I'll see you all soon."

She cut off the connection, then contacted the bridge. "Gorch, signal all ships to delay the hyperspace jump for the next three hours; we've got an assignment coming up."

"_Aye, Captain."_

Once that was done, M'zan moved to her personal computer and brought up a map of the galaxy.

"I guess I can look up some targets while I wait…"

**This was not an action-packed chapter, I know; this was meant to set up future encounters, as well as establish relations between other characters. Next chapter, however… well, in the words of River Song, spoilers!**

**I suggest a new strategy: let the Muffin win.**


	10. Revelations and Secrets

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MY OC'S DO, AND IF YOU STEAL THEM, GETTING FED TO THE SARLACC WILL BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES!**

**Hi, everyone! Did you miss this story? I know I did. Just wanted you to know that, due to content coming up in a few chapters, I might have to change the rating to M, just because I'm paranoid. I'll try to keep the dark details to a minimum on some things, but some of it might be unavoidable… it is my destiny. Sorry, had to use that quote.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 10

Revelations and Secrets

**The **_**Harbinger**_

Moff Laar sat patiently in his quarters, while he waited for his contact to appear on his holocom. He had sent a message a few hours ago, but knew that security for his little meeting would require a long wait. Finally, the hologram of a figure appeared; his—or her, Laar never did find out—face was concealed, as were any other defining features. It wasn't even certain if the figure was human; the hologram was humanoid, but that could have been a ruse.

Such behavior was expected of Imperial Intelligence.

"_Greetings, Moff Laar," _the figure said, its voice a distorted monotone.

"Hello, Shadow," the Moff greeted the figure by its codename, "I assume that you received my request."

"_Yes, I did," _Shadow seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, _"What you ask… is not impossible."_

"Really? You already have something prepared?" if that was true, then they had moved remarkably fast, even for Intelligence.

"_We have had an asset in place for years," _Shadow explained, _"It was a stroke of good fortune that the asset was placed near your target; otherwise, we would have had to divert resources… and despite the favor we owe you, it is not so great as to create an entirely new operation just for your revenge."_

At first, Moff Laar wanted to object, but then he remembered that, even though he was a Moff, Intelligence could have him assassinated just like any other person. Knowing that, he only nodded.

"What about this asset?" he asked, "It is a resource for you; why are you using it at all?"

"_The asset is… disposable," _Shadow admitted, _"And it was in no place to do any great damage to the Rebellion; by helping you, we are at least getting some productivity out of it."_

"In any case, thank you," Moff Laar said with a smirk, "I hope we can work together again."

"_For your sake, pray that we do not," _Shadow said warningly, _"Once the asset is ready to act, we will send you coordinates and a time. If we do ever encounter each other again after that, it will most likely be to kill you."_

Despite the threat, Moff Laar smiled as the hologram dissolved; there was a chance that he could get his revenge very soon, or at least do some damage to his enemies. There was still time before that happened, however, and that gave him time to call in a few more favors. Soon, though, the time for preparation would be over.

Then, it would be time for vengeance.

…

**The **_**Ren's Vengeance**_

For the first time in three years, Ryan regretted not staying with the Rebels on Hoth. He and the commanding officers of Battlegroup Maverick had received word that the Empire had attacked the Rebel base, and they had been informed that hundreds of Rebel soldiers had been killed while buying time for the rest to escape.

It seemed like a waste to Ryan; the Rebels had established static defenses around a base that they knew would be found eventually. Valuable energy had been split, some powering the defenses, while the rest went to getting the transports ready to launch. In Ryan's opinion, the power should have been used for one or the other, not both; the commanding officers of Maverick agreed with him.

Not all the news was bad, however. The datapad that Ryan gave M'zan held more than just orders; it also gave M'zan a promotion to Admiral, the reasoning being that anyone who commanded as many ships as M'zan did should have a higher rank than Captain. While honored, M'zan decided to complain about it in order to lighten the mood.

"I don't like the rank," she had said, "It makes me feel old."

The orders within the datapad, however, were not as welcome; Maverick was to link up with the rest of the fleet, so that no elements of it would be picked off piecemeal. For the Outcast Blades, those orders didn't really apply, so they were free to continue their raids as soon as they finished the job at Bespin.

While the rest of Maverick was preparing to leave, the Blades were meeting with Force Team in the hangar of the _Ren's Vengeance_.

"So, what do you think of this mission, General?" Ryan asked Kota; the blind Jedi was silent for a moment as he tapped his chin in thought.

"The gains to be made with that data could be very valuable," he said at last, "but I have a bad feeling about this."

"I knew it would be a trap," Tanith muttered.

"I don't sense danger," Kota clarified, "just an… uneasiness, a foreboding, but it's not very strong."

"Maybe not to you," Ahsoka said, "but to me, it's really bad, and it's not because Luke was hurt."

She shot a slight glare at Ryan, still upset about her pseudo-nephew being hurt, and having to hear about it second-hand.

"You know, you guys aren't really filling me with confidence," Ryan said, though he kept up an expression of confidence, while trying not to wilt under Ahsoka's gaze.

"Maybe we should go with you," Maris said, "just in case."

Kota shook his head. "No, we've been asked to provide security for the fleet for a while… but I think we can spare Ahsoka and Rex, if they don't mind?"

Both the Togrutan and the clone nodded.

"I don't see a problem with that, General," Ahsoka said.

"Great," Ryan said, the cheer in his voice forced, "grab your gear and get on the _Desperate_; we leave ASAP."

Everyone knew the reason for Ryan's hurry to leave the Star Destroyer, and it wasn't because he wanted to get on with the mission. Ever since he had a hand in killing off the ship's previous crew, he felt uncomfortable whenever he was aboard. It had lessened over the last two years, but he still preferred staying on either the _Desperate Measures _or any other ship in Maverick. Knowing that, M'zan hadn't taken offense.

The other Blades hurried up, both because of Ryan's issue and because the sooner they got moving, the sooner Maverick could get underway. They were squared away after only a few minutes; the longest part of getting ready was waiting for Ahsoka and Rex to get aboard. Neither had many things to move, but the _Rogue Shadow _was on the other side of the Star Destroyer's cavernous hangar.

Once everyone was ready, Tanith powered up the ship and exited the _Ren's Vengeance_; after a quick goodbye over the comms from the now-Admiral M'zan, the _Desperate _jumped to lightspeed.

…

**En Route to Bespin**

The trip to their target was going to be nearly a week long; due to increased Imperial patrols along the major hyperspace lanes—many of which were accompanied by _Interdictor_-Class Star Destroyers that would yank any ship right out of hyperspace—the crew and guests of the _Desperate Measures _were forced to take a series micro-jumps that, while safer, would be less direct.

The time spent traveling wasn't wasted, however; the entire group was either training or maintaining equipment, at least for the first and last two days. Unfortunately, there was only so many times they could train and maintain their gear; the other three days were thus spent surfing the Holonet, playing sabaac, or in Ryan and Tanith's case, having some 'quality time'. Nobody said anything about the latter, though, at the risk of either grueling training with Ryan or getting hit in the head with a spanner by Tanith.

Finally, when the _Desperate _was six hours away from Bespin, the team was gearing up; all of them were itching to actually do something. In a bizarre way, the Blades were almost hoping that the mission was a trap; if it was, that meant that they'd never have to work under Mon Mothma again.

"Anything on the Holonet about the Empire waiting for us?" Ryan asked Wek and Sera as he checked the power packs of his weapons.

Sera shook her helmeted head. "Negative, Commander; there is no sign of an Imperial ambush, however…"

Wek spoke up, his frown visible since he hadn't put on his mask yet. "There was a report that the Empire has already taken over Cloud City. There was also a rumor that the _Millennium Falcon _was here for a little while, but if she was here, she isn't anymore."

"Well, here's hoping that Han, Chewie and anyone they were with got out safely," Ryan said grimly, "Do we know anything about the occupying Imperial forces yet?"

"Not yet," Wek answered, "Once we drop out of hyperspace, our sensors should give us a better picture of what we'll be up against."

Ryan nodded. "Let the others know that we might be bugging out quick; I'll let tell Tanith."

After the Nautolan and the droid left, Ryan made his way to the cockpit, where he found Tanith at the controls, wearing her armor, sans helmet, which was on the floor next to her. Ryan coughed quietly to get her attention.

"I already told you that we'll be there in six hours, Ryan," Tanith said in a slightly-annoyed tone, "Asking me again isn't going to speed things up."

"I wasn't going to ask," Ryan said, sitting in the copilot's seat, "Just wanted to let you know that we may have to scrub the mission if things are too hot."

Tanith nodded, her eyes not leaving the controls. "Got it, sorry for snapping… and I'm sorry for yesterday, too."

Ryan resisted the urge to sigh; he had known that one of them was going to have to address that issue. The day before, after a night of passion in Ryan's quarters, they had had a minor argument; they had smoothed things out, but things had been slightly awkward between them since then.

Ryan gently patted her armored shoulder. "Don't worry about it; I understand if you don't want to talk about it."

Tanith shook her head. "It's not that I don't want to talk about it; it's a… a Mirialan thing. It's kind of shameful among my people, and I don't like anyone finding out."

Ryan nodded, then kissed her on the cheek. "Like I said, don't worry about it. If you ever want to tell me, that's fine, but if you don't, I understand, especially if it's a cultural thing."

Tanith smiled, even as she swatted him for breaking their rule about being unprofessional towards each other while in their armor. Ryan only shrugged at the hit.

"I'm going to get my coat and my sword," he said, getting up, "Be ready to get us out quick if things look bad."

"It's a Mon Mothma mission," Tanith called after Ryan's retreating form, "It's always bad!"

…

To the pleasant surprise of everyone, Cloud City did not actually have a blockade of Star Destroyers around it. In fact, the only ships on the _Desperate_'s sensors were a few TIE Fighters and troop-transports, the latter of which were all docked in the city. While that meant more combat once they were on the ground, it also meant that their ship wasn't in any immediate danger.

"I'm putting us down," Tanith said, gracefully landing the ship on a nearby platform.

The Blades had received clearance to land, thanks to one of the aliases they used from time-to-time. Officially, they were a small team of bounty hunters looking to cash in on the reward for the _Millennium Falcon_, and had come to Cloud City to pick up the trail. The lie was more easily-believed thanks to the recent arrival and departure of the ship they were supposedly hunting.

As soon as the _Desperate _landed, the Blades calmly but quickly exited; their weapons were holstered, but were still easily accessible, just in case. Ahsoka and Rex were right behind them, the Jedi's lightsabers disguised as underslung blasters attached to her gloves.

"LZ is clear," Ryan said, "Loose formation, everyone; we don't want to look like we're on the warpath… yet."

"Copy that, Blade Lead," Tanith said, speaking for everyone as she locked the ship.

The team made their way to the Administration section of the city, staying to the shadows and avoiding patrols of Stormtroopers along the way. Several times, the sound of blaster-fire in the distance made them pause, but they would continue on after a moment.

"I thought this place was a mining colony," Bitters remarked, "Why does it sound like a warzone?"

"From what I understand, the Empire and the leadership of the city had an agreement to keep a transition of power to the Empire as peaceful as possible," Ryan explained, having gone over every piece of data he could, along with Wek and Sera, "I guess either the people of the city didn't like that arrangement, or the Empire broke their word; neither situation surprises me."

The others nodded; such things were common throughout the galaxy, and was but one of many reasons why people hated the Empire.

"Blade Three," Ryan said, "how much further until we reach the target?"

Wek checked a datapad. "At our current speed, about ten minutes."

_And no Imperials have attacked us, _Ryan thought, _that means that they're either luring us into an ambush, or they're just incompetent._

"You there, halt!" the group whirled around to see the source of the voice: an Imperial officer in a gray uniform, a squad of Stormtroopers right behind him.

"What are you riffraff doing in this sector?" The officer sneered at Wek and Ahsoka. "And I see you have filthy aliens with you, even worse."

The Blades, Ahsoka and Rex all scowled; another thing that the Empire was known for was its mistreatment of non-humans. Not for the first time, Ryan regretted ever having anything to do with the Empire.

Still, if they could avoid a fight…

"Apologies, we were chasing a lead about the target we were hired to find," Ryan quickly lied, praying that none of his teammates did anything stupid.

The officer scoffed. "Bounty hunters; we don't need you scum, and the galaxy will be better off without you. Men…"

"Open fire!" Ryan shouted, drawing his carbine and shooting the biggest threat in the enemy squad, a Stormtrooper toting a rocket launcher.

The other Blades and Rex made short work of the rest of the Imperials, while Ahsoka deflected any blaster-fire headed their way. The last kill was claimed by Wek, who put a blaster bolt between the officer's eyes.

"Well, that could have gone better," Bitters said, idly twirling one of his blaster pistols before holstering it.

"There's a good chance that the Empire knows about us now," Ryan said, "We don't have time for stealth; we sprint the rest of the way, grab the data and get out as fast as we can."

The rest of the team nodded and broke into a run, only encountering opposition when they reached the building that held the data they needed. A squad of Stormtroopers was waiting behind a hastily-constructed barricade and opened fire on the Blades as soon as they were in range.

"Blade Five, take out their cover!" Ryan shouted, keeping the Imperials' heads down with fire from his carbine in one hand and his pistol in the other; the other Blades, besides Sera, were using what little cover was available to keep their droid teammate covered. Once Sera was in position, she launched an explosive, high-powered shot that blew apart the barricade, taking out several Stormtroopers and leaving the rest stunned. Ahsoka and Bitters took out the rest in close combat.

"Into the building," Ryan ordered, holstering his blasters before drawing his sword and dagger, "Blade Three, Blade Five, hold the entrance with Rex; everyone else, you're with me."

"Roger that," the Blades chorused, while Rex and Ahsoka nodded.

The inside of the building was guarded, but Ahsoka kept the Imperials unbalanced with barrages of Force-Push, allowing Ryan and Bitters to wade into melee range, carving the Stormtroopers apart, while Tanith blasted any enemies that were out of their range.

"They don't seem prepared for us," Ahsoka commented, once they'd eliminated another squad.

"I noticed," Ryan said, cleaning his bloodied weapons on the uniform of a fallen Imperial officer, "I guess this rules out this mission being a trap."

"Damn," Tanith said, "Does this mean that we still work for Mon Mothma?"

"Maybe, but once this is done, I'll speak to someone in Alliance Command," Ryan said casually, "Hopefully, we'll be able to take jobs from Admiral Ackbar or General Rieekan; they like us."

"Yeah, I'd rather take jobs from one of them," Bitters added, "They don't make me want to amputate something."

Ryan, Tanith and Ahsoka paused to glance at the medic.

"What?" Bitters asked.

"Nothing!" they said in unison, moving along.

There was still an occasional firefight, but the troops they fought only came in small groups or three or four; that meant that either there were less soldiers now, or the Imperials were starting to get the message that the mercenaries weren't to be messed with.

Ryan seriously doubted the latter.

Finally, they reached the main computer terminal and, after a brief shootout with some Imperial engineers, they accessed the databanks. Though neither Ryan nor Tanith had Wek's slicing skills, they were competent enough to copy the information they needed, though Ryan had a feeling that they may have been a little sloppy in the data-retrieval.

"Blade Lead to Blade Three," Ryan said into his comms, "Package is secure; give me a sitrep, over."

"_Nothing too bad out here, Lead," _Wek said a moment later, _"The Empire sent a squad our way, but nothing we couldn't—fierfek, take cover!"_

The transmission was cut off, but not before the sound of an explosion reached Ryan's ears.

"Blade Three, what's going on?" when there was no response, Ryan began to worry, "Blade Three, Blade Five, Rex, somebody answer me, dammit!"

There was a few seconds of static, and then Sera answered. _"We are being engaged by Imperial Scout Walkers and require backup; Blade Three is incapacitated and Captain Rex has suffered mild injuries."_

Ryan was already sprinting for the exit. "Let's move, people!"

Along the way, a handful of Stormtroopers tried to block their path; Ryan wasted no time on them, spraying the area in front of him with his flamethrower and leaping over the screaming, burning soldiers.

When they exited the building, they saw Sera and Rex huddling behind a chunk of debris for cover, while Wek lay on the ground next to them, his mask on the ground and a trickle of blood coming out of his mouth. Ryan kept his emotions in check at the sight of his injured friend; instead, he calmly issued orders.

"Blade Four, assist the wounded; Blade Two, cover him." The two Blade moved out, while Ryan turned his attention to the pair bird-legged, bipedal walkers that were raining heavy blaster-fire on them. "Ahsoka, go for the legs; Blade Five and I will cover you!"

Ahsoka answered by activating her lightsabers with a _snap-hiss_ and charged; the two AT-ST's tried to shoot her down, but their aim was thrown off by explosive shots from Sera's cannon and mini-rockets from Ryan. The Jedi made the last few meters with a burst of Force-enhanced speed and sliced through the leg of one walker with a single swing of her emerald blade. The other AT-ST got a near-hit on her as she jumped from the falling walker, giving her a nasty burn on her shoulder; ignoring the pain, Ahsoka picked up the fallen AT-ST's head with the Force and hurled it at the other walker, knocking it back and giving her enough time to close the distance. Just like its twin, the AT-ST fell, one of its legs missing.

Once he was sure that the area was secure, Ryan turned to Bitters. "Blade Four, sitrep."

"Blade Three has minor internal damage, but I've stabilized him; Rex has a mild concussion and can still move, but I want to get him to the infirmary on the ship as soon as possible." Bitters sent a slight glare through his helmet at Ahsoka, who clutched her wounded arm. "And you just gave me more of a workload, thanks."

The Jedi rolled her eyes. "No problem."

"Can we move Blade Three?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, but we have to move fast; Blade Three's only got a patch-job at best," Bitters answered.

"Got it; you carry him, Four, we'll cover you," Ryan drew his carbine, "Let's move, people!"

The trip back to the _Desperate Measures _was fast-paced; while it had taken them nearly half an hour to get to the administration building, it took half the time to get back. Several times, Imperial forces tried to stop them, but the group either fired on them as they ran or ignored them entirely. The only time they stopped to fight was when they reached their ship; a team of engineers, accompanied by a squad of Stormtroopers, was attempting to access the _Desperate _with cutting torches, but to no avail.

What they _did_ succeed at, though, was to make the Blades very angry.

"Get away from my ship!" Ryan shouted, shooting a Stormtrooper through the helmet with his carbine before barreling into another and ramming his dagger into the man's throat. Rex fired his blaster pistols at another trooper, riddling him with bolts, while Sera mowed down the rest. Tanith, meanwhile, took on the engineers by herself.

"No one… touches… my ship… but me!" she yelled, punctuating each pause with a shot from her scattergun, before finishing the last engineer with her flamethrower.

"Come on!" Ryan ordered, as he fired at the Imperials who had followed them on their way back, "Get in the ship; Blade Five, you're with me, we'll cover them!"

Ryan and Sera walked backwards up the now-extended ramp of the _Desperate_, laying down a withering barrage of fire until everyone else was aboard, and kept up the pressure until they were inside as well and the ramp had closed.

"Tanith, get us out of here!" Ryan shouted, "Sera, get on the belly turret and cover us!"

Thankfully, aside from a few shudders when the ship was hit by rocket-troopers, they were able to make a clean getaway from the planet; a few seconds later, they made the jump to lightspeed.

…

Once in the safety of hyperspace, Ryan checked on the wounded; Sera had suffered some minor damage during the mission and was being repaired by Tanith, while Rex and Ahsoka were declared stable enough that they could wait for treatment, while Bitters worked on Wek.

For nearly an hour, Ryan sat outside of the infirmary; while he waited for Bitters to give him information of Wek's condition, he went over what went wrong in his mind.

They had had no information about the Imperial forces being supported by walkers, but Ryan felt that he should have taken the possibility into account. In hostile urban environments, Stormtroopers were often accompanied by AT-ST's, but the transports they had detected were all infantry models, and thus Ryan had dismissed the possibility of enemy armor.

_Even if there hadn't been an armored presence, _Ryan thought, _I should have kept Ahsoka outside; the interior of the building wasn't heavily-manned, so I should have sent her out to help the defense._

The logical part of his mind knew that he couldn't account for everything, but he still felt the guilt that came when his teammates were injured; every time someone was wounded, he went through the same spiral of guilt.

"I thought I'd find you here," Tanith's voice jerked him out of his thoughts; Ryan looked up to see her standing a short distance away. Unlike him, she had changed out of her armor; she crossed her arms and gave him a disapproving glare.

"What?" Ryan asked.

"You're doing it again," Tanith sat down next to him, but kept up the glare, "You're blaming yourself for Wek's injury, and I'll bet Ahsoka's and Rex's, too. You do this every time one of us gets hurt, now stop it."

Ryan hung his head. "I know, I know… sorry."

Tanith's expression softened. "This is the risk we take every time we go out there; it's part of the job, and beating yourself up over one of the Imps getting lucky isn't going to make things better. If anything, it'll drive up your stress levels."

Ryan sighed. "I get it, it's just that… before I quit the Empire, I spent every waking moment making sure that I wasn't going to get killed. It was bad enough when I was just concerned about myself, but now I have other people under my command; if I don't do things right, people could get hurt… or killed.

"And I'm responsible for every time you guys get hurt; if I hadn't come around, you'd still have your safe engineering job on _Home One_, Wek wouldn't be hurt right now, and Bitters… okay, Bitters might have killed someone by now, but Sera wouldn't have to get fixed up every other mission; she wasn't built for combat."

"That may be true, but you're forgetting some things," Tanith countered, "Even if you hadn't shown up, I'd probably be kicked out of the engineering department by now, and I wouldn't know what I'd do. Wek was already getting in trouble for slicing into computers, and now, Bitters is devoting his energies to constructive purposes. And before you mention Sera, she hated her life with D'noh; you gave her a reason to live. Yes, our missions are dangerous, especially when someone like Moff Laar is gunning for us, but none of us would ever give up what we have now; we're a family, not just a team, and we'll do anything for each other."

Ryan gave a weak smile before gently taking her gloved hand in his armored one; for a while, the two just sat there, taking comfort in the other's presence. Finally, Tanith gently nudged him.

"Get out of your armor and get cleaned up," she said, "I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Okay, and thanks… for everything." Ryan stood up and kissed the top of Tanith's head before he left.

_Great, _Tanith thought, as she realized the position she'd placed herself in, _now I'm the one who has to worry about Wek…_

…

Several hours later, while en route to the fleet, Bitters announced that Wek was not only going to make a full recovery, but he was already awake; immediately after that, he began applying bacta patches to Ahsoka's injury and injecting Rex with various chemicals and assured them that they would be fine by tomorrow.

While the Jedi and the clone recuperated, the Blades had a mini-celebration in the infirmary, toasting Wek's good health. However, the information-hungry Nautolan was eager to decrypt the data that had been recovered, and soon tuned the rest of them out as he began his work. At one point, however, he frowned and double-checked something.

"Hey, Commander," he said, "you got something else here."

"What, the data is incomplete?" Ryan asked, annoyed that the mission might have been for nothing.

"No, you just some extra stuff," Wek assured him, going over the files, "Huh… it looks like the Imperials were trying to erase something from the security files; hang on, let me see if I can bring it up."

While Wek worked, Ahsoka and Rex walked into the infirmary.

"Sorry, Commander," Rex said, "Ahsoka just had that bad feeling again; thought we'd see if something was wrong."

"Looks like we found something that the Empire didn't _want_ found," Ryan explained, then turned to Tanith, "I swear, if it's another Mystery Target… one incident like Kamino is enough, thanks."

"There, I got it!" Wek said triumphantly, then pulled over a holocom, "Now, let's plug this in and see what it is."

After a moment, the hologram stabilized, showing two figures in the bowels of Cloud City. One figure was a menacing being in black armor, a black cape trailing behind him; in his hand was a red lightsaber.

"Darth Vader…" Ahsoka whispered in fear.

She wasn't the only one afraid of Vader; the Emperor's chief enforcer was feared by everyone in the galaxy, notorious for killing anyone who got in his way, and infamous both for leading the slaughter of the Jedi Order and the hunt for the few survivors.

The other figure in the hologram was also recognizable, though his condition was terrible; his clothes were torn, his body was covered in injuries, and it looked like his right hand was missing!

"Luke!" Ryan gasped, "What the hell was he doing in Cloud City?"

"The _Millennium Falcon _was here recently, as was her crew" Sera said, "It is likely that Commander Skywalker was here to assist them, and encountered Darth Vader."

"Hang on," Wek said, tapping on a datapad, "I'm getting the sound now; maybe there's more."

"… _Never told you what happened to your father, did he?" _the synthesized voice of the Sith Lord said.

"_He told me enough!" _Luke yelled defiantly, despite the obvious pain he was in, _"He told me you killed him!"_

"_No…" _Vader said, then seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking again. _"_I _am your father."_

Everyone in the _Desperate Measures _froze, staring wide-eyed at the hologram; what had Vader just said?

"_No... that's not true," _Luke said, as disbelieving as the people watching, _"That's impossible!"_

"_Search your feelings," _Darth Vader said, _"You know it to be true!"_

"_NO!" _Luke screamed, pain, denial and shame in his voice.

"_Join me," _Vader said, reaching out his hand, _"And together, we will rule this galaxy as father and son!_

"_Join me, Luke."_

Luke stared at the Sith with defiant eyes; instead of reaching for the hand, he let go of the platform he had been clinging to and fell out of the security camera's range. A few seconds later, the hologram ended; the last image was of Vader, staring in the direction Luke had fallen, his posture suggesting disappointment and possibly… sadness?

The Blades were all shocked by this discovery, of course, but the grief, anger and disbelief from Ahsoka and Rex was almost palpable.

"That…" Ahsoka said slowly, pointing at where the hologram was, "That can't have been real…"

Wek took a moment to snap out of his shock, and then tapped at the datapad again. He looked up at the Jedi with sad eyes.

"Sorry… it looks genuine."

"General Skywalker," Rex murmured, "He's still alive? He turned into that… monster? How—no, why?"

"I… I can't…" Ahsoka buried her face in her hands and began to sob; the sound of the crying seemed to get Rex out of his own daze, and he wrapped his arms around the Togrutan, gently rocking her back and forth. A few moments later, he carefully picked her up and carried her out of the infirmary.

"What do we do with this?" Bitters asked to no one in particular.

"I do not believe we should share this information with anyone," Sera said, the most composed of all of them, "Should this be made public, the Rebellion will lose all trust in Commander Skywalker; they may even arrest him as a suspected spy."

"Darth Vader cut the guy's kriffing hand off, Sera!" Tanith snapped, "No one would think they're working together!"

"Imperial Intelligence has done worse to get the job done," Ryan said softly, "And from the legends I've heard, the Sith go even further. But Tanith is right, this intel can't go beyond us; I think the circle can include the rest of Force Team, maybe Admiral M'zan, but no one else."

The other Blades glanced at each other briefly, then nodded in agreement; they might not have been as close to Luke as Ryan and the members of Force Team were, but they still liked the kid.

"Tanith," Ryan said, standing up, "how long until we reach the fleet?"

Tanith shook her head, as if to clear it, before mentally going over the numbers. "Um, I'd say in a couple of hours."

"Good, as soon as we exit hyperspace, send a transmission to the _Ren's Vengeance_; tell them I need to see Force Team and Admiral M'zan aboard this ship ASAP.

"This isn't going to end well."

…

Once the _Desperate Measures _met up with the fleet, Tanith sent the message; M'zan had been worried by the Mirialan's tone, and had asked if everyone was all right. Tanith avoided answering the question directly; instead, she only repeated the message before cutting off the transmission.

Now very worried, M'zan had summoned Force Team; together, they waited in the _Vengeance_'s hangar. As soon as the _Desperate _landed, M'zan led the others up the ramp; Ryan guided them to the cargo bay of his ship where, to M'zan's and Force Team's shock, they found Rex still comforting a sobbing Ahsoka.

"What the hell happened at Cloud City?" M'zan demanded.

Wordlessly, the Blades set up a holo-projector and showed the footage. The reactions were similar to the Blades': General Kota sat down heavily, his sightless eyes wide with shock, Starkiller gripped his lightsaber hilt strong enough to make the metal groan, Juno trembled as she held onto her husband's arm, and Maris stared aimlessly at the floor. Like his counterpart among the Blades, PROXY remained fairly composed, but his emotions allowed him something akin to shock. M'zan held together fairly well, only clenching her fingers tightly-enough that her skin turned to a light pink.

"So, now you know," Ryan said, "What do we do with this information?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, before Kota spoke up. "No one can know about this. The Rebellion's morale is at an all-time low after the loss at Hoth; to find out that Vader not only has a son, but that son walks among them…"

"It would break many of them," Juno said shakily, "Some may even try to murder Luke as a form of revenge against Vader."

"Wait, is he here?" Ryan asked.

M'zan nodded. "The _Millennium Falcon _arrived yesterday; Luke is receiving medical attention, but General Solo was captured by a bounty hunter. This morning, the _Falcon _left; Chewbacca and the ship's previous owner, Lando Calrissian, took off to mount a rescue. Princess Leia is also here with Luke."

"Are we all agreed, then?" Ryan asked, filing away the fact that his friend was captured, but knowing there was nothing he could do at the moment. "We keep this a secret?"

The Blades nodded, their decision already made. General Kota nodded next, followed by M'zan, Maris, PROXY and Juno; Starkiller took a little longer, still shocked by the fact that he was acquainted with his old Master's son, who was so unlike his father. Rex nodded next, but Ahsoka stood up, her eyes red from crying.

"I need to talk to him."

"Who, Luke?" Wek asked.

"Well, yes," Ahsoka said, "But I also need to talk to Va—I mean, Anakin. Maybe I can reach him…"

"No, you can't," Kota said grimly, "Even if you were to somehow meet up with Vader without him killing you, the Jedi you once knew is dead; only the Sith remains."

"I have to try!" Ahsoka shouted, "He was my Master, I loved him like a brother!"

"Talk to Luke first," Rex said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, "Get his opinion of all this."

Ahsoka looked like she wanted to protest, but instead sat down, glaring at Kota. "Fine… I won't tell anyone about this, but I still need to talk to Luke."

Kota nodded. "That's all any of us can ask."

…

Several hours later, in his temporary quarters in a Nebulon-B Frigate, Luke Skywalker flexed his new prosthetic hand; with the artificial skin, it looked exactly like his original, but the feeling of metal attached to his flesh was still strange, and a little disturbing. He was jolted out of his musings by the sound of knocking on his door.

"Come in," he called out.

When the door opened, he was surprised to see Ahsoka, as well as the state she was in; she looked terrible, with a large bacta patch on her shoulder, smoke staining her clothes and parts of her skin, and her eyes were red and puffy.

"Aunt 'Soka?" he said, thrown off not just from her appearance, but also the feeling he felt in the Force; though his connection to the Force wasn't as strong as any of the other Force-users yet, he could still feel the anger and grief that poured off of her in waves.

"We need to talk," Ahsoka said grimly, then closed the door.

…

That night, the being known to Imperial Intelligence as IIA-2757—codenamed Asset for the upcoming mission—glanced up as the computer terminal in the room beeped; apparently, there was an incoming message over the Holonet. Curious, Asset opened the message and read the contents.

_Wakeup Protocol activated. Keyword: Metaphysical._

_Initiate Task: Eliminate high-profile target when kill is assured._

_Until parameters are met, remain on standby._

_Resume Deep Sleep Protocol._

Asset's eyes had glazed over as soon as the first words of the message were seen, the programming buried in Asset's mind was activated. Once the message was finished, it waited for three seconds to assure that the task had been accepted, then deleted itself.

A few seconds later, Asset shook out of the daze and went to bed, unaware that there was now a betrayal in the making.

**I love ending on cliffhangers; in the words of Bugs Bunny, "Ain't I a stinker?"**

**So, here's where things stand: the Blades and their closest allies now know about Vader and Luke, Moff Laar is gearing up for a showdown, and a traitor is in the good guys' midst.**

**Next chapter, please don't kill me.**

**I was not elected to watch my Muffins suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in a committee! **


	11. Broken Blades

**STAR WARS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. THE OUTCAST BLADES, HOWEVER, ARE MY CREATION, AND IF STAR WARS WANTS TO BUY THEM FROM ME… WELL, HERE I AM!**

**Fair warning for all of you: bad things are about to happen. Don't hate me. Actually, the next couple of chapter has a lot of bad things happening, which is why I'm considering changing the rating.**

Star Wars: Outcast Blades

Chapter 11

Broken Blades

**The **_**Harvester**_

"Is the connection established?" Moff Laar demanded, glaring at his communications officer.

"Just a few more seconds, sir," the officer said nervously, "Security protocols are even tighter when speaking with… him."

Laar sighed. "Very well."

While he waited, the Moff glanced at his datapad, satisfied with how quickly his forces were being augmented. Over the last several weeks, his fleet had been strengthened by the presence of two _Victory_- and one _Imperial_-Class Star Destroyers, as well as their fighter and bomber escorts. All totaled, his forces were enough to take and hold all but the most well-defended worlds.

Even so, he would trade all of that for the services of the one he was about to contact.

"_Sir?" _the synthesized voice of the Durasteel Demon nearly made Laar jump; in his haste, he had forgotten that the cyborg was even there.

"What do you want?" he snapped irritably.

"_I must ask," _the Demon said, _"Do we truly need his assistance? I am more than capable…"_

"If you were capable, you would have wiped out those pathetic mercenaries years ago," Laar snarled, "You had your chance, many chances, and you have failed. Now be silent, fool."

The Demon stared at the Moff for a long moment, before bowing his head. _"As you wish, sir."_

"Sir," the officer said, his voice shaking, "He's here."

Moff Laar snapped to attention as a figure materialized in the holocom. Though the hologram was blue, Laar knew that the armor, helmet and cape were a sinister black. The man—if he could still be called such—breathed in a synthesized wheeze.

"_Moff Laar," _Darth Vader growled, _"What is the purpose for this meeting?"_

"Lord Vader, thank you for agreeing to contact me," Laar said, proud that he kept a tremor out of his voice, "I humbly request your aid in disposing of a nuisance—a small band of mercenaries in the Rebellion's employ."

"_I have no time for paltry mercenaries," _Darth Vader said dismissively, _"The designs of the Emperor come first."_

_I knew he'd say that, _Laar thought, _time to really get his attention._

"My apologies, Lord, but there was one other thing that I believe you should know." Laar paused just long enough for Vader to tilt his head ever-so-slightly; the Sith was curious. "I have it on good authority that these mercenaries are close to the Jedi who serve within the Rebellion; these same Jedi are often seen working alongside them. If we arrange for a suitable target for the mercenaries, valuable, but still too dangerous for them to take alone…"

"_The Jedi will aid their friends," _Vader finished, _"Their sentimentality makes them weak… Very well, Moff; I shall ready a force to ambush them. Do you have a suitable location?"_

Laar struggled to suppress a grin; he'd gotten Vader's support! In his glee, he failed to notice the Demon's shoulders hunched, his equivalent to a scowl, nor did he notice the cyborg leave the bridge.

"As a matter of fact, my Lord, I do…"

…

**Dagobah**

As Ahsoka brought her X-Wing down to land on the swampy planet, she scowled for the umpteenth time in the last few days. After finding out that Anakin Skywalker, her Master who she had loved like a brother, and Darth Vader, destroyer of the Jedi, were one and the same, she found herself unable to do anything; whether it was training, meditating or even sleeping, she simply couldn't do it.

Tormented, she sought help from both Force Team and the Outcast Blades; unfortunately, no amount of advice could help her. Finally, much to everyone's surprise, it was Luke Skywalker who had given her the best hope yet. He had told her that she should go to Dagobah, where an old friend of the Jedi Order might be able to help her; unfortunately, her 'nephew' refused to tell her who that friend was.

Hopping out of the X-Wing, she scowled again as her feet sunk several inches into the muck; it wasn't the most disgusting thing she had ever done, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

_This better be worth it, _she thought.

At first, she had no idea where to go, but then she felt a presence through the Force. It belonged to someone she hadn't seen in over twenty years, but she would recognize it anywhere. Following the presence, her path took her to a small, dilapidated hut; through one window, a fire was going, and smoke gently floated out of the chimney.

"Now, where are you?" Ahsoka said to herself, looking around, "It feels like you're…"

"Feel like what?" a voice from behind her said; out of reflex, Ahsoka whirled around while activating her lightsaber and bringing it to the neck of her ambusher, who had been sitting on a branch at head-height.

"Away, put your weapon!" a small, green-skinned creature with large, pointed ears said, "Mean you no harm, I do."

Ahsoka deactivated her lightsaber and gasped; she'd recognize that voice, and that being, anywhere!

"Master Yoda!" she cried, gently wrapping the ancient Grand Master of the Jedi Order in a hug, which he returned.

"Padawan Tano, a welcome sight, you are," Yoda said, smiling, "Feared you were lost, I did. Glad to be wrong, I am."

"I'm glad to see you, too, Master," Ahsoka said, before smiling impishly, "and it's _Knight_ Tano, now; Master Kota finished training me."

Yoda rapped her on the head with his walking stick. "Boastful, you are. A trait from Skywalker, you inherited that from."

Upon being reminded of why she'd come here, Ahsoka's good mood left in a flash. Yoda noticed, and gently placed a three-clawed hand on her shoulder.

"Inside, come with me. Much to discuss, we have."

The two entered Yoda's hut, though Ahsoka had to stoop to get inside; Yoda waited for her to find a comfortable seat, then handed her a bowl of stew.

"Hungry, you must be. Worry, you should not; made this with Togrutans in mind, I did. No vegetables."

"You knew I was coming?" Ahsoka asked, even as she began to eat.

"Foresaw your arrival, I did," Yoda said, then gave her a hard stare, "In great pain, you are."

Ahsoka put her food down and closed her eyes. "I learned something recently, Master, and I have to know: is Darth Vader… Anakin Skywalker?"

Yoda didn't answer; Ahsoka opened her eyes to see him facing his meager fireplace. For a moment, she thought the aging Jedi had fallen asleep.

"In a way, he is," Yoda finally said, "but in another, he is not."

"What does that mean!?" Ahsoka demanded, "It's a simple question: is Anakin Darth Vader?"

"Seduced by the Dark Side of the Force, he was," Yoda said, "Gave in to fear and attachment, he did."

"He had a son," Ahsoka said to herself, then focused on Yoda, "Padme was the mother, wasn't she? It couldn't have been anyone else."

Yoda nodded. "Broke the Jedi Code, Skywalker did. At the beginning of the Clone Wars, married the Senator, he did. Drove him to the Dark Side, fear for her safety did. See now, do you, why attachment is forbidden? Hmm?"

Ahsoka closed her eyes again and took a deep breath before speaking.

"With all due respect, Master, I disagree. If anything, the bonds we forge with others make us stronger, not weaker. I don't think I'd be here now if I hadn't become attached to my friends."

Yoda narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, before shrugging. "A debate for another time, that is. Have your answer already, you do?"

"Yes," Ahsoka said, getting back on track, "Anakin and Darth Vader… are the same. But I have to know one more thing, Master: can he be saved?"

Yoda looked away again. "Turned back to the light, he could be but, absolve him of his crimes, that does not."

"I can worry about him standing trial or whatever later," Ahsoka said impatiently, "and don't dodge the question. Can I save him or not?"

Yoda closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, looking at the infinite possibilities that were the future.

"Save him, _you _cannot," he said, much to Ahsoka's dismay, "That task, set for another, it is. With your friends, your destiny lies. Go to them, you must… Knight Tano."

Ahsoka recognized a dismissal when she heard one, but it didn't stop her from grabbing the ancient Jedi in a farewell hug.

"Goodbye, Master Yoda; may the Force be with you."

Yoda stared after her as she left the hut, and continued to stare long after he heard her ship lifting off, taking her to her destiny.

"Need the Force's guidance more than I, you will," he said sadly, "A great trial awaits you. Tempted by the Dark Side soon, you will be. Ironic, it is, that an attachment may save you."

…

**The **_**Desperate Measures**_

With their ship in hyperspace, there wasn't much for the Outcast Blades to do, save for training or planning. Since they didn't have a job to plan for at the moment, Ryan was practicing his swordplay against Bitters in the cargo hold, while Tanith watched; Wek and Sera were at a computer terminal at the other side of the ship, looking for targets of opportunity.

After the revelations from the Cloud City operation, there had been some discussion between the Blades and Force Team about whether or not they would try to get rid of Vader themselves. Fortunately, Ahsoka had gone off to some swampy planet; if she had heard about the discussion, someone would be facing the business-end of her lightsaber, an experience that Ryan had no desire to repeat. In the end, they decided that even if they were to go after Vader, they had no way of ensuring his destruction; even Starkiller hadn't been able to kill him, though that was more the fault of outside forces, not because he was outclassed by his former Master.

Kota believed that the Force had something in mind for the Sith Lord. Ryan just said it was dumb luck; he doubted that the Force would want someone so evil to stick around.

Since they lacked a high-value target at the moment, the Blades had fallen back to raiding Imperial supply depots, bringing back valuable weapons and supplies to the Rebellion, while Force Team was still on standby. Now, after another successful raid, the Blades were on their way back to the Rebel fleet.

"Ow! Kriffing hell, Bitters!"

On the way, Ryan had to remind Bitters that they were using training swords, and that the goal wasn't the dismemberment of their opponent.

"Sorry, got a little carried away," Bitters said, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

"A little carried away?" Ryan echoed, "You just punched me in the face!"

"Should have kept your guard up," Tanith said from her position well out of reach of either of the men's swords.

"Oh, hush, you," Ryan growled, bringing up his sword in a ready position, "Let's try this again, Bitters, only this time, no punching me in the face."

"No promises," the medic said, smirking, before hefting his sword over his shoulder and charging.

This time, instead of dodging, Ryan stood his ground; as Bitters' sword came down, Ryan deflected it so that the blade only barely missed him. Thrown off-balance, Bitters was wide open for the hilt of Ryan's sword to hit him in the solar plexus; as the man staggered, Ryan brought his elbow around and struck him between the eyes, knocking him to the floor.

Bitters glared up at him. "I thought you just said no punching in the face!"

"Two things," Ryan said, holding up two fingers for emphasis, "First, I didn't punch you, I elbowed you. Second, I only said no punching _me _in the face; I never said anything about you."

Bitter kept up the glare for a few more seconds, before finally laughing as he got back up. "Okay, I walked into that one; you're a sneaky little fierfek sometimes, you know that?"

Ryan shrugged. "I don't buy into honor all that much; I do what it takes to win, even if that means I need to cheat."

Bitters laughed again. "Remind me never to be your enemy."

"The same goes for me," Ryan joked, "I'd never want to fight you; you're too damn scary!"

"Good, that means I'm doing my job," Bitters said, then tossed his training sword away, "All right, I've gotta get back to the infirmary; I have to make sure none of those chemicals explode."

As soon as he left, Ryan looked at Tanith. "He's kidding about the exploding chemicals, right?"

Tanith shrugged. "Not sure… I'm staying away from the infirmary for a while, though."

"Agreed," Ryan sat next to Tanith and wrapped an arm around her waist, "So… got any plans for tonight?"

Tanith's expression turned thoughtful. "Well, I met this cute human a while back, and he said he'd clear the ship for us; I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, I suppose I can let you and this 'cute' human have the night off," Ryan said, playing along, "Though I thought he was more of the 'ruggedly handsome' type, not just 'cute'."

Tanith turned Ryan's head towards her, studying his face for a moment. "Nope, definitely just 'cute'."

"Ouch, there goes my self-esteem," Ryan mock-pouted.

"Oh, don't worry," Tanith said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I'll make it up to you."

"How are you going to do that?"

Tanith whispered into Ryan's ear; in a few seconds, his face turned bright-red, then he interrupted her with a passionate kiss. The two remained like that for some time, before eventually parting for breath.

"I should lower your self-esteem more often," Tanith said, moving her head to rest on his shoulder.

Ryan took a deep breath, taking in Tanith's scent; for some reason, despite how often she was covered in grease and other mechanical fluids, her hair always smelled like flowers.

"Not too often," he whispered into her ear, "If you do, we might never leave my quarters; what would the others say?"

"That we deserve a vacation after years of fighting a war?" Tanith guessed.

That was actually something she had been thinking about for a while; though she loved the time she had with Ryan, Tanith often hoped that they could just take a few days away from the other Blades, where the two of them could act like a normal couple for once. It wasn't an impossible dream; there were plenty of places that had resorts that weren't under the Empire's thumb, and the two of them had more than enough credits to pay for it.

Unfortunately, that was unlikely to happen any time soon; Ryan was devoted to helping those he cared about, and there were just too many friends within the Rebellion that needed the support. He would never forgive himself for taking a few days off, while they were fighting and dying. It was a quality that made Tanith fall in love with him all over again, though it could get frustrating at times.

Lost in thought, Tanith didn't hear what Ryan said.

"What was that?"

Ryan kissed her on the forehead. "I said that the second the Rebellion looks like it doesn't depend on our raids, I'm going to take you someplace nice. Just the two of us; how does that sound?"

Tanith didn't verbally respond; instead, she jumped up and dragged Ryan to his quarters.

Even now, Ryan never ceased to surprise her. Yet another thing that made her fall in love with him all over again.

…

**Alliance Fleet, the **_**Ren's Vengeance**_

Admiral M'zan smiled as she saw the _Desperate Measures _enter the hangar of her ship. The happiness she felt when she saw some of her closest friends coming back had never faded, no matter how many times the Outcast Blades came back unscathed. The feeling she had was akin to a mother welcoming her children home.

As the _Desperate _landed, she waved forward a team of droids to offload the Blades' latest capture; this time, it was a large amount of medical supplies, as well as useful engineering tools. While M'zan watched Sera, Wek and Bitters oversee the transfer of cargo, Tanith and Ryan walked up to her; the Mirialan wrapped M'zan in a friendly hug.

"Hello, Tanith," M'zan said, surprised; while they had become good friends over the years, Tanith had never been _that _friendly before. "What's the hug for?"

Tanith shrugged. "Just happy."

As Tanith moved off to say hello to friends aboard the Star Destroyer, M'zan caught the odd smile on Ryan's face.

"Okay, what am I missing?" M'zan asked him.

"I promised her a vacation soon," Ryan told her, "Just the two of us."

"Oh, is that all?" M'zan smirked, "I thought you had proposed… or I was about to find out that I was going to be an honorary aunt."

The blood drained from Ryan's face as he sputtered, much to M'zan's amusement. Despite years of doing it, Ryan had yet to shrug off teasing about him and Tanith. The Admiral playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

"Judging from your expression, I guess neither is happening?"

"Um… yeah," Ryan said, and M'zan was reminded that, for all his maturity on the battlefield, he was barely into his twenties; things like marriage probably weren't on his mind.

"Moving on," M'zan said, "General Kota wanted to see you, and Ahsoka just got back from… wherever she was."

Ryan nodded. "Thanks, Rila; I'll go talk to the General."

As M'zan oversaw the distribution of the supplies, Ryan made his way over to the _Rogue Shadow_; sitting by her loading ramp, Force Team—minus Ahsoka, who had yet to return—was chatting amongst itself, though Kota had an apprehensive look on his face.

"Hey, guys," Ryan said, waving, "What's up?"

"Ah, Ryan, good to hear your voice again," Kota said, shaking the younger man's hand, "We recently came across some information that should interest you. What do you know of Balmorra?"

Ryan thought about it for a moment. "The whole planet is basically one giant arms factory, right? What about it?"

"Your old friend, Moff Laar, has recently acquired a factory there, and is using it to build up weapons and armor for his troops," Kota explained.

Now Ryan understood. "As much as I'd like to turn that factory into a smoking hole in the ground, isn't Balmorra heavily fortified by the Empire? There's no way we could get onto a fortress like that; we'd be dead within minutes."

"Not necessarily," Juno chimed in, "We found out that Imperial Intelligence is 'cleaning house'. Between the executions and the panic among the workers, the chaos should be enough that we will be able to infiltrate the planet with minimal risk."

Ryan nodded, liking where this was going. "What kind of window are we looking at?"

Now Rex spoke up. "We've got two days at most, and that's if we leave right now."

"Got it," Ryan looked around, "Will Ahsoka be joining us?"

"Yes, she will," Ahsoka's voice rang out from behind them; the group turned to see the Togrutan striding towards them. Unlike when they saw her a few days earlier, she wasn't despairing; she still wasn't back to her usual self, but she was certainly better.

"Good to see you back, Commander," Rex said, addressing her by the rank she had during the Clone Wars.

Ahsoka smiled, then surprised everyone by kissing Rex on the cheek before turning to the others. "So, what's this about attacking Balmorra?"

Kota began explaining the situation again; since he wasn't needed there, Ryan jogged back to where the other Blades were and told them about the mission.

"Seriously?" Wek asked, "Isn't Balmorra one of those worlds we never want to go to? Everyone there is probably going to kill us."

"The same could be said for just about every planet we go to," Ryan said, "Besides, this sounds like a perfect opportunity to really hurt Laar, and I don't want to pass it up. Any objections?"

The other Blades shook their heads and, after telling M'zan what was going on, they boarded their ship and took off; Force Team was right behind them, and the two vessels made the jump to lightspeed.

…

**Balmorra**

"Kriffing hell," Ryan said softly, as he observed the carnage, "I think Juno has been out of touch with the Empire for too long; this is beyond just 'cleaning house'."

In orbit around the planet, a massacre was occurring; Imperial vessels were opening fire on small, orbiting stations, presumably filled with people the Empire didn't want around anymore. Just a preliminary sensor-sweep estimated that thousands of people were dying.

"Why would the Empire do this?" Sera asked, "It does not seem logical to kill so many workers."

"Those guys were probably a part of something the Empire wanted to keep secret," Wek said, "And you know that old saying, 'dead men tell no tales', right?"

"This is wrong," Tanith said, glaring at the Imperial ships, "Is there anything we can do?"

Ryan sighed. "I wish there was, but there are hundreds of ships out there; we wouldn't stand a chance. The only thing we can do is make those peoples' sacrifices worth something. Come on, take us down to the surface."

The rest of the flight down to the planet was silent; a few minutes later, the two ships landed in a field that was covered with large rocks and smoking craters. According to their intel, this area had been used as a testing ground for some new artillery recently, and there wasn't going to be anything else scheduled for some time. As an added bonus, the area was also fairly close to their target.

After leaving PROXY with Juno to guard the ships, the two groups headed out. The journey to the entrance was uneventful, with no enemy presence until they reached the factory itself. There were a few Reapers standing guard, but the Jedi of Force Team simply crushed them quickly and quietly with the Force. Once they were inside, however, they hit a snag: there were branching paths to different parts of the factory.

"So much for finding one place to plant the explosives," Bitters commented.

Normally, neither group would attack an enemy base without more details; they had learned the hard way after the incident on Kamino. With time against them, however, they were hoping that stealth and speed would make up for knowing what they were in for.

Ryan and Kota spent a few moments to discuss what to do next.

"All right, here's the plan," Ryan said, pointing an armored hand at the different paths, "We don't know what's waiting for us inside, and we'll need to split up to plant all of our explosives, so we'll break off into smaller teams."

"Blade Five, go with General Kota."

"Acknowledged," Sera said, hefting her cannon, while Kota straightened his combat robe.

"Blade Four, go with Starkiller."

"Got it," Bitters said, as Starkiller idly twirled his deactivated lightsaber in his hand.

"Blade Three, Blade Two: you'll go with Maris."

"This'll be fun, right, guys?" Maris asked, grinning at the two Blades she was grouped with; she could sense that they, too, were grinning.

"I'll go with Ahsoka and Rex," Ryan said, "Plant your explosives on anything that looks like it'll make a nice 'boom', then get out as fast as you can. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."

Everyone nodded; with their limited intel, this configuration made sense, and every team had a Jedi in it. If things got too hot, they could cover the retreat.

"All right then," Ryan said, "May the Force be with us."

Grimly, they split up.

…

"This seems too easy," Sera said quietly, as Kota attached several bombs to a large container of liquid Tibanna; the volatile material would send this section of the factory sky-high.

"I agree; there was no opposition on the way here," Kota said, "I don't sense any immediate danger, but…"

Sera tilted her head. "But what?"

"It could be that I _can't_ sense a threat," the blind Jedi said, his tone becoming more and more worried, "With all the death going on all over the planet right now, I can't tell if there's a danger right next to us or a kilometer away."

"Should we alert the Commander?" Sera asked, "If there is a danger…"

Kota shook his head. "No, the destruction of this place is worth the risk; Moff Laar's forces are dangerous enough without what this factory will give them."

Sera nodded, accepting that logic; then, without warning, she raised her cannon and fired.

…

"Either we're getting good, or they're getting sloppy," Bitters said, pulling Ol' Chopper out of the gut of a Reaper; the man gurgled once, then died.

"Maybe both," Starkiller commented; the two men had run into a squad of Moff Laar's troops, but between Bitters' methodical dissection of his opponents and the sheer power from Starkiller, they killed them in record time.

"Seriously, the last time I fought these guys in close-combat, it took me almost five minutes, and that was against three of them!" Bitters frowned behind his helmet. "Even with you taking down six of them by yourself, it only took me a minute to take down the other four."

"I agree, something seems… wrong," Starkiller said, his eyes narrowed in thought, "It's as if they don't care if they die.

"Let's just hurry up and finish this mission."

"No arguments here," Bitters said, swinging his sword, the blade arcing towards Starkiller's neck.

…

"It's official," Wek complained, "I hate going into Imperial bases."

"Oh, come on," Maris said, "It's not that bad."

"It's all close-quarters!" the Nautolan growled, "I can't snipe in these conditions!"

"Your job isn't sniping," Tanith said, sweeping her scattergun in front of her, in case they were ambushed, "Your job is to open doors or slice computers, while Maris and I do the fighting."

"See, that's the spirit!" Maris said, then activated her _shoto_ sabers and pointed one down the hallway they were in. "Incoming!"

She charged forward into a five-man team of Reapers that were just reacting to their presence. Her sabers sliced two men in half, while Wek shot another in the throat with his pistol; Tanith took out one with her scattergun, the spray spinning the last one around, right into the path of one of Maris' sabers.

"Hey, look at that," Maris said, gesturing to Wek, "You can fight in close-quarters after all!"

"It's not as fun," Wek mumbled, as Tanith charged up her scattergun and fired.

…

"I swear, if this factory belonged to anyone else besides Laar, I wouldn't even be here," Ryan said as he, Ahsoka and Rex made their way through the factory; they hadn't encountered any enemies yet, but they were still being cautious, which was why Ryan was only speaking through the comms in his helmet, not out loud.

"Oh, so the only way to get your attention is to try to kill you?" Ahsoka joked, "What did Tanith have to do to get your attention, set your house on fire?"

"Ha-kriffing-ha," Ryan said, glaring at her, "at least I only waited six months; when did you two become an item?"

"We're an item?" Rex asked, genuinely confused; as a clone trooper, bred to fight and die, he had no experience with relationships.

Ahsoka sighed. "I think we'll have to talk about this later, Rex; for now, let's—oh, no."

Ryan and Rex glanced at her; she had frozen, her eyes wide in shock.

"Ahsoka, what's wrong?" Ryan asked.

"Take cover!" Rex shouted, tackling both of his teammates behind a cargo container, just as a squad of Reapers opened fire. Normally, Ahsoka would have jumped into battle, but she was still stuck in a dazed state.

"Ahsoka, snap out of it!" Ryan said, shaking her, but to no avail. "Damn it! Rex, Ahsoka's out of it; cover me!"

"Copy that!" Rex shouted, drawing his blaster pistols and laying down a withering barrage of fire.

Pinned down by the clone, the Reapers were unable to hit Ryan as he sprinted forward, firing his carbine as he ran. He killed two of them before he closed the gap; when he did, he dropped his carbine and drew his _beskad _in his right hand, and his dagger in his left. Ryan became a whirling dervish of blades, lopping off limbs and heads with his sword and slashing open throats with his dagger.

After a few tense moments, Ryan finished off the last of the Reapers; he sheathed his blades and picked his carbine up from the ground.

"Okay, now I'm annoyed," he said, reaching for his comms, "All teams, status report!"

…

"Status is green," Sera said, stepping over the smoking remains of a Reaper, while standing protectively in front of Kota, "We were ambushed by a team of enemy combatants, but the General and I have dispatched them; we are currently finishing with the last of the explosives.

"However, General Kota appears to be in a state of shock; I believe that something has happened."

…

"Green here, too, boss," Bitters said, though he scowled at the scorch-mark on his sword; one of the Reapers that he thought Starkiller had killed had raised a blaster with his remaining arm and fired. Had the medic not placed his wide-bladed sword in the path of the shot, Starkiller might have been killed.

However, instead of finishing off the wounded Reaper, Starkiller just stood there, dazed, leaving Bitters to take care of the injured enemy. He then pulled Starkiller aside and scanned him; there wasn't anything wrong, according to his equipment, so what was going on?

"I think we have a problem, though."

…

"Great, three of our Jedi are out of it," Ryan muttered, then turned back to the comms, "Blade Three, Blade Two, what's happening on your end?"

There was no response.

"Blade Three, Blade Two?" Ryan repeated, "Wek, Tanith, answer me!"

When he got a response, it shook him to the core.

"_Tanith, what did you do!?"_

…

It seemed to happen in slow motion.

One second, everything was normal; the enemies were dead, and that allowed Wek to banter with his teammates, until Ryan called to ask for a sitrep. Wek had just activated his comms, and then all hell broke loose; the next thing Wek knew, Tanith had walked up behind Maris, her scattergun fully charged, and shot the Jedi in the back.

At point-blank, the blast of energy ripped a hole through Maris' spine, lungs, and out her chest with a brief splash of blood, before the heat from the shot cauterized the wound. The Jedi fell, almost graceful in her demise, twisting just as she hit the floor, her face frozen in a picture of shock, confusion and pain.

Maris Brood was dead.

Wek couldn't believe it; how could Tanith do something like that? She had been using that scattergun long enough to know to never point it at anyone, especially when it was charged like that. It couldn't have been an accident, but why would she purposefully shoot anyone on Force Team? She loved all of them like family; Maris had even been the one to teach her a few hand-to-hand techniques.

All of this went through Wek's mind in only a second, but it felt like hours. When he finished those thoughts, he could only ask one thing.

"Tanith, what did you do!?"

Tanith didn't answer; instead, she turned around and fired at him!

Wek dove to the side, the shot only grazing his armor. He had to think fast; he couldn't kill the Mirialan, that was out of the question, and she was better in close-combat than he was. In fact, out of all the Blades, he was the worst when fighting hand-to-hand. If he was going to stop Tanith and get some answers, he was going to have to use the skill that he was best at.

He would have to be sneaky.

He activated his cloaking-generator and disappeared; Tanith scanned the area, but didn't see him, allowing him to better observe her before making a move. That was what made him a good sniper: he could be very patient when he wanted to be, and he could observe the behavior of a target before attacking.

It was as if someone else was wearing Tanith's armor; she was moving slowly, almost in a dreamlike state. Wek had seen something similar when witnessing one of the Jedi using a mind-trick; the victims of that would sometimes act like they were in a trance. He could use that to his advantage.

Slowly, quietly, he made his way behind the Mirialan; he would only have one shot, and then his cloak would break. He kicked out, hitting Tanith behind her knee, causing her to fall forward. As his cloak broke, he brought his hands together and slammed them into the side of Tanith's helmet. Thankfully, his hands were armored; otherwise, he'd have broken his fingers doing that.

Stunned, Tanith fell over, but Wek wasn't taking any chances; he dragged her over to the nearest wall and bashed her helmeted head against it several times. Once he was done, he pulled her helmet off and checked that she was still alive; she was, much to his relief. Not wanting her to attack him again, he pulled out a cable from his belt; the coils of cable that each Blade carried were more compact than binders.

After securely tying Tanith's wrists behind her back, Wek made his way over to the fallen Maris; he knew it was pointless, but he checked her vitals anyway. She was dead, killed almost instantly by the point-blank shot.

Shutting off his grief for the moment, he reached for his comms.

"Commander, we have a problem…"

…

"What do you mean, 'Tanith killed Maris'!?" Ryan shouted into the comms, "What the hell is going on!?"

Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to see Ahsoka, tears in her eyes.

"I could feel it," she said softly, "We could all feel it; Maris is dead, Ryan."

There was too much going on; in nearly three years, no one in either the Blades or Force Team had ever had a casualty, and now the first death in their 'family' was at the hands of the woman he loved? He felt himself get dizzy for a moment.

_Get a hold of yourself, Nimbus! _He thought angrily, _we'll figure this out, we just need to get out of here!_

"Blade Five," he said in a calmer voice than he felt, "You and General Kota link up with Blade Three. Recover Maris' body and help Blade Three get Tan—get Blade Two to the ships. Blade Four, Starkiller: link up with us, we'll form a rearguard and blow the bombs as we leave; that should stop anyone from chasing us.

"Come on," he said to Ahsoka and Rex, "let's get the hell out of here."

The three ran back the way they came. Ryan was almost hoping that someone tried to stop them; he needed to vent his anger on something.

There were only a few sections of the factory left before they reached the exit. As they entered on section, a large, open area with only a few scattered crates for cover, a large figure stepped out of the shadows. With every step he took, a synthetic wheeze came from his helmet.

"_Greetings, my old Padawan," _Darth Vader growled, _"It has been some time."_

Ryan immediately regretted wishing for someone to fight, as he raised his carbine in a trembling hand.

"Blade Four, Starkiller," he said into the comms, "get over here. Right. Now."

Ahsoka had initially stared at the Sith Lord, but quickly got over the shock; now, she held her deactivated lightsabers loosely but confidently, her eyes narrowed at her former mentor.

"Anakin," she said, "you've certainly changed. Did you get the cyborg look from General Grievous, or does the Emperor just like having people with missing limbs serve him?"

Vader didn't rise to the bait. _"I allowed you to live, Ahsoka, because you were no longer a Jedi. There was no need to hunt you down. Now, however, it would seem that you have rejoined an order that no longer exists."_

"And whose fault is that?" Ahsoka demanded, activating her lightsabers, "You killed everyone who trusted you! Why? Tell me, Anakin, why!?"

Darth Vader didn't reply; instead, he activated his own ruby-red blade and held it in a ready position.

While Ahsoka switched to a reverse-grip for both of her weapons, Ryan and Rex split up, hoping to flank the Sith Lord. If Vader noticed, he didn't care; in fact, he didn't ever turn his helmeted head when Rex opened fire with his pistols, only casually holding out his hand, the blaster bolts deflecting off of an invisible barrier.

Ryan tried his hand next, firing a mini-rocket from his gauntlet; Vader flicked his finger, sending the rocket straight up to detonate on the ceiling. Ryan tried his flamethrower next, a wave of fire shooting at Vader, who simply pointed his lightsaber at the flame; the fire broke around both the blade and Vader himself, like a river around a rock.

"_Neither of you are worth my time," _Vader said, clenching his free hand; both Ryan and Rex lifted into the air and clutched at their throats as they were choked by the Force.

They were only saved when Ahsoka broke Vader's concentration, her lightsabers blocked by his own; the two men fell to the ground, coughing, as they watched the student fight the teacher.

Ahsoka had the advantage of both agility and a second weapon, but Vader held his ground under a relentless onslaught of attacks, both physical and verbal.

"You betrayed everything you ever stood for!" Ahsoka yelled, as her thrust was parried, "The Anakin Skywalker I knew would have been helping us fight the Empire, not helping it commit murder on a galactic scale!"

"_The Anakin Skywalker you speak of is dead," _Vader shot back as he made a vicious horizontal slash, which Ahsoka flipped over to land behind him, _"You are the only one who believes that he can be saved."_

"That's not true!" Ahsoka shouted, "Your son believes in you! Don't you care about him? He's all you have left of Padme!"

Even Ryan, who had no connection to the Force, could feel the anger coming off of Vader in waves. He had no idea who this 'Padme' was, but it certainly wasn't someone Darth Vader wanted to be reminded of.

The Sith crossed his arms, then extended them, unleashing a blast of Force-energy, staggering Ahsoka and sending Ryan and Rex flying into a wall. Ahsoka steadied herself, then charged again, leaning forward and keeping low to the ground. She slashed with her main lightsaber, but it was blocked; using the sudden stop, she flipped over Vader again, ready to stab him with her _shoto_. This time, however, Vader was prepared.

With an upward slash, Vader's lightsaber cut through Ahsoka's left arm, severing it right above the elbow. Ahsoka fell to the ground, screaming in agony; Vader raised his saber to finish the job, but a wave of Force Lightning forced him to shift his attention.

With a vengeful shout, Starkiller dashed forward, never letting up his lightning; while he kept Vader busy, Bitters ran up and dragged Ahsoka away, as Ryan and Rex finally recovered.

"Come on!" the medic yelled, "We need to get out of here!"

Ryan nodded and reached for his comms. "Air support, now!"

A few seconds later, the roof of the factory exploded, and the _Desperate Measures _hovered overhead, smoky trailing from her torpedo-launchers. Right behind her, the _Rogue Shadow _aimed her own, smaller cannons at Vader; between Starkiller and the _Shadow_, Vader was forced back. In order to buy time, Darth Vader hurled a massive chunk of debris at the injured Ahsoka; forced to make a choice, Starkiller abandoned his attack to save his friend. When he turned back, Vader was gone.

Rather than pursue him, Starkiller helped Bitters and Rex get Ahsoka to the _Desperate_'sinfirmary, while Ryan headed to the cockpit to take over from Sera. The two ships then flew up into the atmosphere, but not before Ryan detonated the explosives within the factory; the damage wasn't enough to destroy the factory, or even do critical damage, but it would do something for the Blades. Normally, the Blades would have watched the destruction with a cheery smile, but not today.

They had lost too much today.

…

**The **_**Ren's Vengeance**_**, One Day Later**

In all the time she had known the Outcast Blades and Force Team, Admiral M'zan had never expected casualties. Even after the ambush on Naboo, when every one of the Blades had been hurt in some form, she considered the death of any member of either team to be impossible.

That illusion was shattered by a single message from Captain Eclipse.

_Mission failed. Casualties sustained: 3 wounded, 1 fatality. Prepare cell for prisoner._

M'zan had rushed to the hangar, along with a team of medics for the injured and marines for the prisoner. If she was being honest with herself, though, the marines might be there to keep her from killing the prisoner, especially if they had anything to do with the death.

She was nervously tapping the deck with her foot as the _Desperate Measures _and _Rogue Shadow _touched down. The first one out of the _Desperate _was Bitters, who was pushing a hovering gurney, on which lay a moaning Ahsoka; M'zan felt bile rise in her throat when she saw the stump where the rest of the Jedi's arm used to be.

"Get me these chemicals!" Bitters shouted, practically hurling a datapad at one of the medics, "If we don't get this stuff synthesized now, she isn't going to make it out of the shock!"

Bitters pushed Ahsoka past the Admiral without a word, and was followed by half of the medical team; barely a second later, Rex ran out after them, his armor partially removed and his head had several bacta patches on it. Before M'zan could say anything, she saw Kota and PROXY leave the _Rogue Shadow_, the droid pushing another gurney; the figure on that one, however, wasn't moving.

M'zan struggled not to cry when she saw the face of Maris Brood; her eyes might have been closed, but her face still showed the pain she had been in. The Admiral balled her hands into fists when she saw the blood staining the sheet the dead Jedi had been covered with up to her neck.

"What happened?" she asked Kota quietly; the blind General shook his head sadly.

"It was a trap," he said, "The whole thing. Moff Laar had forces there, but they were only meant to slow us down… for Darth Vader."

M'zan gasped. "He killed Maris?"

"No, but he was responsible for what happened to Ahsoka," Kota said, "Maris' death, however… well, you'll see."

Kota pointed at the _Desperate_, and now M'zan's anger and grief warred with confusion; Tanith was pushed out of the ship, her hands bound behind her, the plates of her armor removed, leaving only the black bodysuit that the Blades all wore.

"We weren't letting her out of our sight for a second, even to change clothes," Starkiller snarled, then pushed the Mirialan, who had only a blank look on her face, towards the marines, "Take her to the brig."

Seeing the murderous look on the Jedi's face, the marines quickly moved Tanith away, if not for her safety, than for their own.

Ryan was the next out, a haunted look in his organic eye. In the years she had known him, M'zan had never seen the human look so… lost. He glanced up, barely registering M'zan's presence, before wandering off.

"What the hell is going on!?" M'zan demanded. Kota gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"Tanith betrayed us," he said, "She shot Maris in the back; we have reason to believe that she was an Intelligence deep-cover operative."

"No…" M'zan shook her head, "No, that can't be true. Tanith, she… she loved every one of you! It's not in her!"

"And that's what makes this all the more tragic," Kota said, "for us, for her… and for Ryan."

M'zan saw Ryan's retreating form, and felt even worse.

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know. Wek and Sera are going through Tanith's effects to see if there are any clues, and Bitters is taking care of Ahsoka. The only one who doesn't have anything to keep him occupied is Ryan."

M'zan was suddenly reminded of how she had acted after the _Blaze of Glory _had been lost, along with almost a third of her crew. She could only hope that, in his anger and grief, Ryan didn't do something incredibly stupid.

…

A few hours later, after finally shaking off the shock, Ryan found himself wanting answers. He knew that Moff Laar had to have been behind the trap, that much was obvious; what he wanted to know, however, was the reason for Tanith's… betrayal. It was still hard to even think about, but it was true.

Ryan made his way to the brig of the _Vengeance_; there, two marines saluted him.

"Sir, we were about to call for you," one said, "The, um… the prisoner is acting weird."

Ryan frowned. "Define 'weird'."

"She's asking where she is, acting really confused," the other marine said, "We're not really sure what's going through her head."

"That's what I intend to find out," Ryan said, pushing past the marines, where he saw Tanith in a cell, still clad in the black bodysuit. Upon seeing him, she jumped up, almost tripping and falling headfirst into the ray shield that separated them.

"Ryan! Oh, thank the Force—what's going on? Where are we? Why am I locked up? What happened on Balmorra?"

Ryan's face was an emotionless mask as he stood in front of her. "You're on the _Vengeance_, and you're being held as an enemy spy."

"A spy!?" Tanith sputtered, "What are you talking about!?"

"You don't remember?" Ryan asked, to which, Tanith shook her head, "During the mission, you shot and killed Maris…"

"No way!" Tanith shouted, horrified that anyone would even accuse her of such a thing.

"And then you tried to kill Wek," Ryan continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "At the moment, the theory is that you're a deep-cover Intelligence agent."

Tanith sat heavily on the bench in her cell, staring at her hands. "I… I couldn't… I would never…"

"You did," Ryan confirmed, "Maris is dead, and you've betrayed us. The only thing I want to know is why. Why would you spend all that time helping us, fighting alongside us, and then turn on us like this? Was that friendly face just a lie? Was everything between _us_ a lie!? TELL ME!"

Tanith recoiled as Ryan's voice grew louder and louder. "No! I swear I never lied about anything, I… I…"

She said nothing else as she broke down in tears, her face buried in her hands; not sure how long he could restrain himself, Ryan quickly walked out of the brig. He wasn't sure where he was going, but all he knew was that he couldn't stay in the same room as Tanith right now… or ever again.

_It makes sense, her being a spy, _Ryan thought, _she told me she worked at Kuat, those shipyards are Imperial. It would have been easy for Intelligence to find a recruit there. How could I not have suspected her from the start? The Kuati Drive Yards should have been a dead giveaway! _

Ryan was jarred out of his thoughts when he realized that he was in the infirmary. He found Ahsoka's room where, to his relief, she had been stabilized. He stayed just outside the room, hidden from her, Bitters and Rex; the medic was attaching a metal disk to the remaining part of her arm, which would connect to the prosthetic she would soon receive. Rex was gently holding her remaining hand with both of his.

"Thanks for being here, Rex," Ahsoka said, her eyes slowly closing, no doubt due to the sedatives she'd been given.

"You know I'll always be here," Rex said, smiling.

"Uh-huh," Ahsoka said sleepily, "That's what I love most about you."

Rex seemed to struggle with himself for a moment; then, he leaned over and gently kissed her on the lips.

"Get some rest," the clone said, "I'll be here when you wake up."

"You'd better," Ahsoka said, barely awake, but with a massive grin on her face, "I want to… continue this… discussion… later…"

Then she was sleeping; none of them had noticed that Ryan had left right after the kiss. He couldn't handle any reminder of him and Tanith right now.

…

Ryan made his way back to the hangar, hoping to find a nice, quiet corner to rest and clear his head. Out of the corner of his cybernetic eye, he noticed Starkiller, a fair distance away, sitting next to Juno; the Jedi was saying something with a depressed expression, but then Juno turned his face towards hers and gave him a tender kiss.

_The galaxy hates me,_ Ryan thought, and went inside his ship.

That turned out to be a mistake; everywhere he looked, he was reminded of the woman he loved, and how it might have all been a lie. There was the ventilation shaft that Tanith had been inside of, right before the Kamino mission, where he had kissed her. There was the area outside of the cockpit, where they had decided to try being in a relationship. There was…

"DAMN IT!" Ryan punched the hull as hard as he could, desperate to get the memories out of his head.

Finally, Ryan went to the armory, one of the only parts of the ship that Tanith had spent little time in. He closed the door, placed his hands against a weapons-rack and allowed himself to cry.

Ryan hated crying for two reasons. First, because he had no tear ducts in his right eye, but the reflex that came with weeping made his cybernetic eye hurt like hell. The second reason was that, as a leader of a team, he couldn't afford to show weakness of any kind; if it looked like he was going to break, the entire team would, too.

Right now, though, he didn't care. He let the tears fall down the left side of his face, sobbing loudly. His hand drifted down the weapons-rack, before landing on a blaster pistol. He drew it and, for a brief moment, considered pressing it against his head and pulling the trigger.

Before the thought could become any more than that, he heard a knock on the door. Putting the blaster back and wiping his face, he opened the door to see Wek and Sera.

_Oh, right, _Ryan thought, _I forgot they were still on the ship._

"Hey, Ryan," Wek said, "We found something on Tanith's computer terminal in her quarters. It was pretty hard to find; the message was programmed to delete itself, and I had to rebuild a lot of code piece by piece, and…"

"It may shed new light on her betrayal," Sera added, elbowing Wek to make him shut up.

If either of them noticed that Ryan had been crying, they didn't comment, for which Ryan was grateful.

"What did you find?" Ryan asked. Wek handed him a datapad; on it was a copy of a transmission. Ryan looked at both of them in confusion.

"Some kind of code phrase?"

"Kind of," Wek said, "I've seen something like this before. It's used to activate the 'programming' of sleeper-agents. If I'm right, then Tanith may not have been aware of what she was doing."

_That would explain the confusion, _Ryan thought. Out loud, he said, "But this has orders to take out a high-profile target, and Tan… _Tanith_, had plenty of opportunities to kill me."

Wek shrugged. "Maybe the Empire doesn't consider the leader of a five-man team to be important-enough."

"A Jedi, on the other hand, would be," Sera said.

Ryan nodded. "Good work, both of you; take this to Force Team and Admiral M'zan, see if it can help her case at all, and—wait a minute… you got this off of her private terminal?"

"Yeah, what's your point?" Wek asked, before getting elbowed again by Sera, "Ow, stop it!"

"There was something in her room," the droid said, as if Wek hadn't spoken, "A large package; it was wrapped up, but there was a datapad with instructions to give both it and the package to you, should anything happen to Tanith. I believe that being a suspected sleeper-agent qualifies as 'something happening'."

The corner of Ryan's mouth twitched upwards. "I think it does. You two give Force Team and M'zan that datapad; I'll go see what the package is."

The two Blades left, and Ryan made his way to Tanith's quarters. He had never been inside, but he remembered how she had snapped at him, right before the mission on Cloud City; he had wondered, in completely idle curiosity, if they would ever spend a night in her room. She hadn't taken it well; once she calmed down, she said that it was something that was very un-Mirialan of her.

Taking deep breath, Ryan opened the door. For the most part, it was as he'd expected it to be; there were tools scattered about, along with holographic schematics of upgrades she wanted to apply to the ship. The only thing that was odd was the large package in the corner of the room; it was ridged, and covered in a cloth, with a datapad sitting on top.

Ryan sat down on Tanith's bed, grabbed the datapad and began to read.

_Dearest Ryan_

_If you are reading this, then something has happened to me. Whether I am dead or lost, this message will hopefully explain why I snapped at you that night before the mission on Cloud City. I am a Mirialan; when we choose a profession, it is a way of life. We are dedicated to one path; for me, to be anything other than an engineer would be sacrilege to my people. That is why I didn't want to show you this; it's another path of life, one that isn't engineering._

_I hope you can forgive me for acting like I did, and for such a stupid reason. Know that, whatever has happened to make you read this, I love you with all my heart._

_Tanith Tsor_

Ryan struggled not to cry again as he put down the datapad and removed the package's wrapping; it wasn't what he expected.

It was a stack of paintings, eight of them, complete with frames. Though Ryan didn't have that much taste for art, even he could tell that these were amazing… and one of them was a portrait of him.

Not just of himself, though; there was a portrait of each of the Blades, including a self-portrait of Tanith. Aside from the portraits, there was a painting of the Blades as a group, standing together and laughing in front of the _Desperate Measures' _loading ramp. The next painting was of Force Team, similarly posed in front of the _Rogue Shadow_.

_These details are amazing_, Ryan thought, _but we never hung out like that _outside _the ship, and I would remember if Sera actually laughed; did she do this all from her memories of us?_

The final painting made Ryan's heart jump into his throat. It was a painting of himself and Tanith, standing together; their hands were joined, while Ryan was wearing a formal outfit, while Tanith was wearing a beautiful white dress. Ryan didn't need any obvious clues to what was going on in the painting.

Unlike the other paintings, this one had a title at the bottom of the frame: _One Day Soon_.

The grief, the anger and the suspicion all fell away from Ryan. Over the last few hours, he had thought that whatever Tanith didn't want to show him was actually damning evidence. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Tanith was an artist. Unlike other Mirialans, who chose one path to follow, Tanith had found something else that she loved to do; unfortunately, doing it would have made her a pariah among her people, so she kept it hidden, even from non-Mirialans.

A scenario appeared in Ryan's mind: Tanith had acquired legitimate work at the Kuati Drive Yards, and then Alderaan had been destroyed. Imperial Intelligence, realizing that Tanith would hate the Empire and probably join the Rebellion, put the 'programming' into her mind. Unfortunately, her habit of taking apart ships prevented her from ever being put in an important position, where she could do a lot of damage. Then, Ryan had showed up, and Tanith was too removed from the Rebellion for her original mission to work. Moff Laar must have asked Intelligence for help in taking out the Blades, and Intelligence realized that they now had an opportunity to use an asset, even if it wasn't for the purpose they had intended.

If Laar hadn't contacted them…

Something in Ryan snapped.

_Laar! _Ryan scowled, _this is all your fault! You son of a Hutt, I'll kill you for this!_

Ryan gently wrapped the paintings back up, then brought them out of the ship. He waved over a few technicians.

"I need you to bring this package to Admiral M'zan," he said, gesturing to the paintings, "Do not open this under any circumstances, make sure nothing happens to it—and I will hold each of you personally responsible if something does—and tell the Admiral that I am asking her, as a friend, to keep this safe for me.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, taking out a datapad and tapping away at it for a moment before handing it to another technician, "Bring this to the brig; tell the guards that I want it delivered to the prisoner."

"Um, okay, sir," one technician said, before they left to follow his orders.

Once they were gone, Ryan went back into the ship and gathered up all of his teammates' equipment: their armor, weapons, and personal effects, and gently placed them outside, along with a datapad with instructions for the Blades to receive their stuff.

With that finished, Ryan headed back into the ship, closed the ramp and went to the cockpit.

_I promised that if it ever became personal, I would never drag anyone else into it, _Ryan thought, _Well, now it's pretty kriffing personal. Sorry, guys, but I won't get you killed over this._

…

"Here you go," the marine said, handing Tanith a datapad, "The Commander of the Outcast Blades wanted you to have that."

Absently, Tanith picked up the datapad, her mind elsewhere; she was already being wracked by guilt and heartbreak. It wasn't until later that she actually paid attention to the datapad, and when she did, her eyes went wide.

It was _her_ datapad, the one she'd placed in her quarters for Ryan if anything happened to her; had he found out her secret? Granted, it wasn't galaxy-shaking, but it would make her own people cast her out if they knew.

Turning it on, she saw a short, simple message:

_I'm sorry._

_I saw _One Day Soon_._

_It will happen, I promise._

_I love you._

_Ryan Nimbus_

Outside the cell, the guards looked at each other in confusion when they heard the sound of relieved crying, mixed with laughter.

…

"Admiral!" Gorch said from his position on the bridge, "We have an unauthorized departure from the ship!"

"What? Who left?" M'zan asked, grateful that something was happening to take her mind off of the tragedy of today.

"It's… it's the _Desperate Measures_?" Gorch said, confused, "She just made the jump to lightspeed."

"Get me Commander Nimbus!" M'zan shouted, "Someone just stole his ship!"

A few seconds later, battle droid arrived on the bridge.

"_Mistress, a group of technicians report that Commander Nimbus sent you a package for safekeeping. There are also witnesses who say that the Commander was seen removing items from his ship."_

"Admiral," Gorch said, "There is no sign of Commander Nimbus; I can only assume…"

"That he was the one in the _Desperate_," M'zan finished; the question, however, was why?

Then it hit her. Moff Laar; that scumbag had been responsible for the death of someone Ryan had considered family, and might also blame for Tanith's behavior. She also remembered that Ryan would never risk anyone else if something became personal.

_I guess it's personal now._

"Get the other Blades up here," she said, "Force Team, too.

"They are not gonna be happy."

**So, yeah. Maris is dead. Sorry about that.**

**Also, yeah… Tanith was the traitor, and she didn't even know it. To be honest, when I was coming up with this story, I knew that I wanted a betrayal to happen, I had no idea who it would be. I literally had a scenario in mind for each Blade, save for Wek; he was the only person who would never betray the team. That's right: by that definition, even Ryan could have been the traitor. I actually put all of the Blades' names (save for Wek) into a hat and drew randomly. The winner—a dubious honor, in this case—was Tanith.**

**Speaking of Tanith, that whole art thing, and being ostracized by her people for doing something other than one path? I have no idea if that's true or not. The only info on Mirialans states that they get geometric tattoos about their chosen path. They also have more Force-sensitive people than most species, but that's neither here nor there.**

**Oh, and the whole 'programming' thing? That can actually happen; think of post-hypnotic suggestion. That, combined with the Imperial Agent's story in "Star Wars: The Old Republic", was how I got the idea.**

**I hope you enjoyed the bits with Yoda and Darth Vader. They will never show up again.**

**And now Ryan is off on a one-man crusade. Pro tip: never hurt the girlfriend of a man who can kill you in a higher number of ways than you have bones in your body.**

**I could be mistaken, as they're using a very primitive dialect, but I do believe that they think I am some sort of Muffin!**


End file.
